


The Ghost of You

by cissyxavier (eriklehnsherr)



Series: We Are All Made of Stardusts [1]
Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Royalty, BUT IT WAS AN ACCIDENT I SWEAR, Erik Has Feelings, Eventual Happy Ending, Forbidden Love, King!Erik, M/M, Original Character(s), Please Don't Kill Me, Please Don't Look At Me Like That, Poor Charles, The Selection AU, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-06-03 01:52:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6591847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eriklehnsherr/pseuds/cissyxavier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik is the King of Genosha, a kingdom located in Genosha Septime, the new home for mutants after the first Earth was destroyed along with the humans.</p><p>Charles is the Supreme Guardian (most commonly referred to as the "X"), the one who protects the King from harm with the use of his telepathy, and whose identity was kept secret from everyone since the day he was born.</p><p>  <i>This is the story of how Charles, the Supreme Guardian, slowly falls for Erik, the only person he's not supposed to love, but curses, he does. When the right time comes, Erik tries to find an omega to marry.</i><br/>Of course, it could only go downhill from there.</p><p>Can everything still go back the way they were before?</p><p>Book Cover can be found <a href="https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B6Faw-m8zegPazRfM3B4Sm15UkU">here</a>.</p><p>---<br/>(Sorry for being away for too long! There are lots of stuff that needed sorting on the Genoshan National Database and I offered to help. Uploading the next chapter before Christmas*.) <3)<br/>---<br/>*(EDIT: I AM A SHIT LIAR. I will upload the chapter when I deem it good enough. The King is going to kill me if I don't do it asap lmao)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Truth Be Told, I Never Was Yours

  


I. 

_Truth be told, I never was yours._

(This is Gospel) 

\--- 

**[2517-07-20, 21:53 | Hammer Bay, Genosha]**

As the King’s Guardian, the X, he knew from the very start that it would somehow end like this. 

Oh, how he embraced the unwelcome yet unpleasant feeling of the cold, ocean-kissed safety railings of the ship digging on his back. The feeling of being trapped is cripplingly terrifying, especially when there is a porcelain gun being aimed at his head by a man wearing the colours of the Caspartina Bandits. 

They came for Erik, on the night that he was supposed to be looking for a future companion. 

_A companion that’s not him—because he could not even be with Erik. For one, he’s Erik’s X. His protector and his only, until the day one of them dies. He is the Supreme Guardian of Genosha, and Erik is the Supreme Ruler. A ruler can marry anyone but a Guardian. It is written._

_Besides that, Erik does not particularly take interest on him. Like he said to Magda, he was barely tolerable._

**_No, focus_** , he says to himself as he takes a deep breath. 

They came for Erik. 

_Erik’s going to die tonight._

He can’t help but feel immense distress that he worries that he could be projecting. The situation wouldn’t probably be worrisome, if the bandit was not wearing a mind-control-repelling helmet. Talk about cursed luck! 

“Surely, you don’t want the King to die?” The aging man with the porcelain gun smirks, and if he could use his eyes, he would see the bandit's eyes were full of impure intentions. He could never see the man’s smirk with his own covered eyes behind his Helm, and yet he could feel the murky thoughts oozing through the man’s repelling helmet. It makes him feel nauseous. Old, filthy-minded bastard. “Or do you?” 

It’s always like that. Each and every time he encountered the bandit on his visions, it’s always the damned thing that he hears the man ask. Of course, being the one who had calculated every possibility of his replies and reactions, he sticks to the reply that he wanted to say—the only response that felt _right_. 

“No.” He speaks softly, despite being threatened. Being calm in the face of peril is expected of a Guardian like him. “I don’t wish him any harm.” 

When the man cackles, the X cannot help but flinch infinitesimally. With a voice that is merely held back by a scorning laughter, the cracked bandit said something that he had never said before on his visions, yet oh-so-familiar. “It’s funny, isn’t it, Supreme Guardian? Very funny, how you would sacrifice yourself for someone who did not spare a glance your way, not even once. You’re just a pawn. He wouldn’t give a rat’s ass even if he himself finds you dead and floating.” 

“It’s… not true.” The X finds his hands gripping on the railings behind him as tightly as he could, trying to stop himself from shaking. He closes his eyes and finds something to focus on, something to anchor himself on. 

Ah, there. He focuses on the rhythm of the footsteps of the man. 

He continues, “I would do everything in my power to protect him at all costs, even if it means that I have to be wiped away from this very existence. I was born to serve and to protect him, as insignificant as he thinks I might be. It is what I am, as the Supreme Guardian, just a mere pawn of the King.” 

Footsteps are gradually getting louder, his heart beating faster… The man stops pacing and whispers on his Helm's ear-hole. “It’s your seventeenth nameday today, is it not?” 

“Yes, indeed.” Though how the bandit knew about that, he will never know. 

The bandit strokes the X’s neck with the cold porcelain muzzle of the gun, and this time the Guardian cannot suppress the shiver of fear that trickled down his spine. “You’re seventeen, and he’s partying with several omegas inside. He’s sipping an expensive champagne from Frostfall, mingling with people, while trying to find a wife… on your own nameday. 

You naïve little child. Do you know what the difference is between you and a pawn?” The man cackled. “A pawn can be a Queen in the end. You can’t.” 

Words hurt more than the X would like to admit. He had not seen this on his visions. How could the man know of his desires? Would he end up disgraced and thrown into a dungeon, or stone-cold dead at the end of the night? 

The cloak that he’s currently wearing, the one that the sixteen-year-old King Erik once owned and fastened on him when he was inaugurated as the new X, billowed in the harsh wind. He feels like he's a seven-year-old child again. 

“Stumped, aren’t we? You could never protect your King with your silence, nor your petty chit-chat. You’re all talk, aren’t you?” The man jabs him on the shoulder with the gun as if trying to prove a point with it. “That’s what Guardians are, especially Supreme Guardians like you and the ones before you. The X. All talk, no act.” 

Amidst the chaos that was the cold whip of the wind and the spray of water, there’s an audible click, and the X knows his time is running out. The safety of the gun was toggled off. “Though now is probably the time to act wisely. Would you choose to return inside, where you could sit beside the King as I shoot him with bullets that he cannot stop, or… you could be a good little boy and step off the ship, drown yourself, and let him live… for a little longer—without you, of course.” 

“I fail to see how that does make it any different.” The X whispers in the coldest, most dismissive manner possible. If he is going to die in the bandit’s hand, then he might as well bargain with the devil. “How can I be sure that a _little longer_ is not just mere minutes? How can I be sure that my sacrifice would not be in vain?” 

Humming, the bandit steps away a bit, giving the X the space to breathe. “I like you, child. You’re not as naïve as I thought you’d be.” He laughs and the footsteps resumed. “I have to admit, you’ve got some serious backbone, and I admire that. Very well, I’ll give him eight years to live, should you choose to step off the ship. He will live for eight years without you, am I correct? After all, Kings are only allowed one X on their entire lifetime… You would die without him knowing why you did it. 

If not, then I would give you time to go back inside and find him, then I will kill him instantly. He gets to die in your arms, with him thinking of how you did not protect him at all. He would die thinking what a useless X you are. How… tragic.” 

It should be a hard choice for him, but the X had nothing to lose. There was no love lost between himself and the King because he had never loved him back, and he will never do. All he is to him is a protector, someone that he had tolerated because of tradition. 

_He’s barely tolerable, Magda. I need him because Genosha needs me._

Genosha would never mourn for only a Supreme Guardian like him. No one would mourn for him. He had never felt so alone his entire life except for this moment, and for a person that was blindfolded from the moment he was born and was isolated from the other children, that’s saying something. 

Between his life and the King’s, it’s an easy choice. He taps on the mind that was the strongest one he had ever felt and sent a brief message. 

**_Father, forgive me. I have failed my duty to Genosha and the House of X._**

**_Please take care of the King, in my absence._**

**_Ensure his happiness and his safety, for my heart will be forevermore his._**

**_Farewell._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! *waves*
> 
> I've debated with myself long and hard on whether I should put this out here, since my writing is more than hideously rusty. I haven't written in quite a while and, when I was struck with a brilliant idea, I just decided to wing it. As this is recently written and unbeta'ed, all possible typos that you might spot in here are mine alone.
> 
> So... What do you think will happen next?  
> (Comments are very much appreciated! <3)  
> -Cx


	2. First Impression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're back to where it all began. Charles wants a puppy. Lord Xavier sees his König, Jakob Lehnsherr, and may or may not have a little crush on him. Erik becomes the King of Mixed Feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The things on _italics_ here are visions of the X that he accidentally projects.  
>  The things on **_bold italics_** are things spoken telepathically.  
>  The **König** is the King's father, and **Königin** is the King's mother.

II. 

_I’m quiet, you know_

_You make a first impression_

_Well, I’ve found I’m scared to know_

_I’m always on your mind_

(Collide) 

\--- 

**[2507-07-19, 07:25 | The House of Truth, King’s Road, Genosha]**

Brian could not really see with his eyes since he was born, but he marvels at the beauty of the world around him through the eyes of his friend. As Lord Stark sits beside him and looks around their mental connection establishes, Brian seeing the butterflies, roses, and a pot full of dandelions on it. 

“That’s your child’s plant pot, dear X.” says Lord Stark, pointing at the dandelion-laden pot. “Remember when I said I was working with Lord Weyland to develop the biologically-activated plant pots? That’s one of the prototypes.” 

“Dandelions,” Brian says with a little, almost undetectable smile on his face. “My son is elated, then?" 

Lord Stark focuses his gaze on him, then at his son. Charles is blindfolded but not yet wearing a telepathic Helm, his brown hair studded with goldensnares flowing down to his ankles. He's playing with the blackhound puppy that Lord Stark brought with him for the Crown Prince, while wearing the sincerest of smiles that anyone could ever see. 

"Yes, I do think he's more than elated." says Stark, a little of the smile reflecting on his own lips. 

Charles tilts his head at the puppy when it tried to pull on the lace of his blindfold, then looks at where he supposed he heard Lord Stark's voice. He calmly envelops the nobleman's mind and asks for permission to communicate telepathically, to which Stark agrees. 

**_Do you happen to know where I could get a puppy like him, Lord Stark?_**

"Why, don't you want that one?" says Lord Stark. 

**_You're giving him to someone else._** Charles pouts, and his father chuckles heartily. His son was clearly charming Howard, and the man seems like he cannot resist giving him anything the child wants. The puppy barks and playfully gnaws on Charles' hand. 

Brian elbows Stark subtly as he says, "Yes, Howard will give him to someone else, won't he?" 

"Um... Yes?" 

To his telepathic connection with Stark he sent, **_Please, for the love of the old Professor, Howard. Don't let my son have a dog._**

Howard glares at Brian. "Why the fuck not?" 

**_Because I said so. And language, my friend. A curse, however ancient, is still a curse._**

"You're ancient." Stark exclaims as he throws his hands in the air and huffs. 

\--- 

**[2507-07-20, 15:33 | Throne Room of the Iron Citadel, King’s Road, Genosha]**

Cameras. Everywhere. 

Erik can feel the focus of the cameras on him, and he can feel his skin prickle with the unwanted attention. He isn't particularly fond with cameras and are irritated by them, and the fact that they are broadcasting his coronation live did not help at all. He tries to ignore them all as the Sage, only known by everyone as Wolverine, begins the ceremony. 

"Do you, Erik Magnus, vow to be the Protector of Genosha, to carry on the duty of protecting the people and the land from anyone who would dare cause mayhem?" 

"I accept the duties of becoming the Protector of Genosha, and I swear in the name of the father of the House of M that I would do my best to protect my people and my land." says Erik with his voice full of conviction. 

"Do you promise to dedicate your life in ruling the descendants of the first mutants, to keep the peace, and to lead them to a better life?" asks the Sage. 

"I promise to do everything in my power to maintain Genosha's peace under my rule." 

"I now declare you, Erik Magnus, son of Jakob Magnus and Edeline Maxime, the new King, Protector of Genosha, and Peacekeeper of Genosha Septime." The Sage places the Crown on Erik's head, and the sceptre on his right hand. 

Erik rises from where he was kneeling, and lets the Sage lead him to his throne. At last, the worst of the worst is over. He sits on the Supreme Throne to witness the removal of the previous X’s Helm. 

As the Erik watches his Father’s X and his heir walk down the aisle towards the throne, he realises that he cannot take his eyes off him. He often sees the man with his hair braided so neat that he forgot how long it actually is when it’s just flowing freely. The X’s hair is long, far too long that it trails behind him like a golden veil. 

Of course, he’s wearing the Helm of Justice that covers his face from the hairline to the space just under his nose. There are no eye-holes for the Helm for the X is not allowed to see with their eyes since their birth, but Erik notices the way he turns to the direction of where his Father is standing, and the way he smiles a little… and he knows that he could see him. 

He's simply observing with his eyes and analysing the X when suddenly, there’s a sharp tug that seized Erik from his reverie. A presence that starts as a gentle caress of cool water on an overheated skin, then turns into a crescendo of torrential rainstorm just right after a scorching hot summer… 

\--- 

_“You’re an idiot, do you know that?” Erik snaps. He can feel the flow of the cool lake water on his body._

_Erik hears nothing from the smaller figure in front of him, who is drenched in lake water as well. Of course he wouldn’t hear from him. He doesn’t speak at all._

_“You’re as important to this world as I am. What if you died back there?”_

_No response. Erik can barely contain his impatience._

_“You can’t see a damn thing, can you? Take Sterne with you. Always. You need someone to guide you. Do you understand me?”_

_A little nod, and an audible sniff. Erik smiles a little, his impatience gone, and hugs him._

_***_

_“Find him, or I will!” He shouts as loudly as he can to his people, pointing at the raging sea._

_The air whips violently as if retaliating to his command._

_“We won’t find him in this storm, Your Majesty! We must head back to the shore!” they say._

_He can't let him drown. He can't lose him, and so he jumps._

_“Sire, no!”_

_He tries to swim, to keep an eye out for a body with pale skin._

_He reaches with his powers, trying to find the Helm. The headgear speeds up towards him, but the one who was wearing it is missing. He can’t find him._

_Then, the wave of emotions hit him._

_Loss. Regret. Agony._

\--- 

Erik gasps almost audibly, feeling like his chest had been crushed. Thankfully, no one noticed it. What the hell was that? He tries to remember, but the more he tries to grab at the tendrils of his memories, the more it slips from his mind. Feeling scandalised, his eyes immediately falls on the small figure beside the X – his heir. 

There could be no other suspect. Erik still feels the presence in his mind. He keeps his eyes narrowed at the X, then at his son, as they stop in front of the throne. No one seems to be perturbed by the fact that a helmless telepath is among them. Erik cast a glance at his mother, and she is just looking fondly at the X and his heir. His father is sporting the same expression. 

The X bows down to Erik’s father in acknowledgement and says, “Your Highness, My König, standing before you is my only heir, seven years of age. I present my beloved child to you, as an offering of guidance to your offspring, like how my father offered my guidance to you." 

Jakob bows back to his X in respect. They had been good friends for a very long time, and his X is a good person. “Of course,” He replies with a voice that Erik knows he had just lowered the pitch for the sake of the live broadcast. Erik barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. “I wholly accept your offering, my friend. I now free you from the burden of the crown, and of your Helm.” 

His friend nods once and fiddles with his Helm’s lock mechanism. It fizzes open from the back, the parts retracting until only the faceplate remains. Erik feels a presence of his mind akin to a soft, warm touch of sunlight after a long winter. It’s very different from the presence on his mind earlier. “It had been an honour serving under the glory of your name, my König.” 

He removes it from his face and holds it with his two twitching hands and there, standing before the Royal Family is a man with thin, red lips, and a gentle, handsome face that does not seem to be affected by his age. His eyes are still covered with a dark blue blindfold made of silk, which Jakob unties with his sword-calloused hands. “You may now see the light, my dear X.” 

The blindfold falls, and Erik saw the most beautiful amethyst-coloured eyes that he had ever seen. He looks at Jakob with adoration and unsuppressed happiness and caresses his face with ever-so-gentle hands. Speaking almost in a whisperlike manner he says, “I am Brian Francis Xavier, my König, and I want to thank you for letting the House of X rule by your side. It… It feels good to finally see you.” 

“Pleasure’s all mine, Lord Xavier, my Guardian.” Jakob smiles and hugs his friend tightly, gently patting his back. Everyone in the room claps (with the exception of Lord Xavier’s heir who was absolutely nervous with all the minds around him), and it made Lord Xavier and the Königin, Edie, snicker. “We should go through with the formalities still, my friend.” 

“Yes, yes. Right.” With a final pat, Jakob relinquishes his hold on Lord Xavier. The latter goes back to his veiled heir, who’s still standing in front of the stairs leading to the throne. The former goes back to his throne with the ghost of a smile etched still on his slightly-lined face. 

The helmsmaster of the kingdom parades in with his students, carrying three Helms of Justice in their mask form. Erik spares a glance at his Guardian, waiting to be declared as the new X. Whatever he chooses as the Helm, his Guardian would wear for the rest of his life as an X. 

First of the Helms that they present to Erik is red, with intricate orange outlines. He is immediately repulsed with the fiery neon colour that made his eyes hurt so badly. No, definitely not that one. Good god, what were they thinking? 

The second one is white, with golden swirls. As much as the colour represents the purity of an X and the judgment that they bring, Erik cannot make himself give it to his Guardian. It’s too pure and plainly predictable. The presence that was on his mind right now, the torrential rainstorm, it was nothing like this helm. This isn’t good enough. 

The last one is the one that Erik liked the most. It is a matte black faceplate with contrasting bluish-white swirls. Exotic and beautiful, it reminds Erik of the sight of the World Tree at night, with its bluish-white leaves. Elegant, mysterious, precious, and irreplaceable, just like how an X should be. He can almost feel the metal humming, whispering to him, _pick me please, pick me_. 

Standing up, he picks up the black faceplate, the bluish-white swirls slightly warming up and circulating around the area where Erik lays his hand on. He smiles slightly and stands in front of Lord Xavier, offering the faceplate to him and speaking as firmly as he can. Dear god, the man is beautiful. Erik hopes he doesn’t blush, and his voice doesn’t waver. His mother would tease him about it, if ever that happens. “Justice is blind, and the Kingdom of Genosha would like to keep it that way.” 

Lord Xavier smiles at the King and nods. Just as Erik sits back on the throne, he kneels in front of his heir and shimmies the long veil just enough for the faceplate to latch on and become a Helm of Justice. 

The presence of the cool water and the raging storm on Erik’s mind stops. Even though he was expecting it, the King almost gapes in shock. So it was him! It was the X who was telepathically messing with him! 

The older Xavier carefully removes his son’s veil from under the helm. His heir is a child wearing a long, black tunic with the hand-painted rendition of the World Tree on the hem of it. He has ankle-length straight brown hair that curled slightly on the ends. The only uncovered features of his face are his lips, significantly redder than his father’s, and his skin even paler. Erik looks away and inevitably meets his Father’s gaze. 

Needless to say, Jakob seems pleased with his choice of helm. The König then stands up and walks towards the child and places his hand on the young one’s head. "Child of Brian, seven years of age and Keeper of the Vantablack Helm, I pronounce you as the rightful X of the next generation of Genosha, and the Guardian of the new King." The König’s voice resounds on the Throne Room, the new X bows once, then turns to face Erik as if he could see him. 

The flashes of events on his mind from earlier come crashing back to Erik, albeit with significantly lesser magnitude. He cannot, for the life of him, remember those exact words, but one of the lines said in his voice sticks to him.  


_“You’re as important to this world as I am. What if you died back there?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Cx here to tell you (again) the terrible disclaimer that this story is unbeta'ed and any mistakes and possible typos made on this chapter are mine and mine alone.
> 
> The people of Genosha and Genosha Septime profoundly offers their thanks for taking the time to read the story of their King and their X, ~~and I am currently held at knifepoint and if I do not finish the telling of their story, I will be bloody before one can say _Genosha Septime_ thrice~~. Lord Xavier also conveys his thanks for the kudos that y'all lovely people gave to this story and would like you to know that ~~he does not harbour any feelings for his König~~... Um. Never mind that. He likes to deny things. He didn't say anything.
> 
> Again, comments and feedback are wholly appreciated.  
> -Cx, Official Scribe of the Royal Family of Genosha


	3. He Didn't Choose This Role

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inauguration and the Coronation after-party! An asshat gives an advice to another asshat. Erik gets a baby-- sort of. Media-blackout-inducing-mayhem ensues.
> 
> It's a TERRIBLE night.

III. 

_She didn’t choose this role_

_But she’ll play it and make it sincere_

(Time to Dance) 

\--- 

**[2507-07-20, 20:14 | The Iron Citadel, Genosha]**

After the inauguration of the new X, and after Erik placed his cloak on his Guardian’s shoulders, they paraded around the City Square, and then back to the Iron Citadel. The celebration spread from the Iron Citadel, down to the streets and local pubs of Genosha. Everyone are raising their glass to their new King’s name by sundown, and everyone on the streets are almost blackout drunk by moonrise. 

The night is gradually becoming duller the more Erik stared at everyone from a corner of the Grand Area. It’s a small mercy that the party is full of people with a thirst for the media’s attention. If Erik needs to give another interview regarding his X and what he feels about his telepathy, he’ll scream angrily and strangle the nearest person with a microphone cord. 

Telepathy is something that Erik looks out for when dealing with a person, and now he is stuck with one of the most powerful telepaths alive. He does not want any of this, if he would be honest with himself. Ruling a kingdom is a duty that he can’t escape from, not even when he’s just sixteen, but Genosha needs him… and he needs his X to protect him, even when he’s a telepath and he’s just seven years old. _Perfectly civil_ is the attitude expected of him when dealing with him. 

A soft voice pulls Erik out of his reverie. “The X wishes to know if Your Majesty is faring well this fine evening.” 

Erik turns around to find his X and his lady-in-waiting, who seems like she's always on edge, what with the subtle glances on every direction and her tense stance. She has the most vivid green eyes Erik had ever seen, her hair streaked with purple, ears crooked like an old-Earth high elf, and her face lined with purple tattoos. He raises an eyebrow at her, then at the X. Not that the X could see it—he was blindfolded underneath the headgear that he’s wearing, anyway. “Perfectly fine, although I wish to know something as well, Lady...?” 

“Lady Clarice, Your Majesty. And what is it that tickles your imagination, my King?” 

Setting his champagne flute on the table, he looks down at the X, who was looking up to Erik as if he could see him through his Helm. “Why would the X prefer not to talk to me directly?” 

“Ah… I…” Lady Clarice flushes a bit, looking at the X and then at Erik, then back to the child again. The X squeaks and runs off, Erik’s cloak – well, his cloak, billowing in the wind. 

The lady-in-waiting curtsies briefly, “I apologise for the Young Master’s behaviour, Your Majesty. I shall be going now, as well. Good evening,” and chases after the X. 

Erik rolls his eyes and sighs heavily, taking his champagne flute and heading back to the bar. He needs something stronger before he can deal with the Guardian. As he sits on a stool while the barman is making his drink, Lord Stark joins him. The man is wearing an absurd-looking baby carrier with an abnormally huge blue-eyed, black-furred puppy dangling on it instead of a baby. 

“It seems like you scared him right off.” Lord Stark whispers to Erik with a chuckle, as he signals an unoccupied barman to make his ‘usual’. 

Erik taps his fingers impatiently on the bar then turns to Stark, raising an eyebrow and feigning nonchalance. “Who?” 

“I saw what happened earlier,” says Stark. The puppy on the Lord’s lap blinks and yelps at Erik, licking the King’s hand with his forked tongue. Erik visibly shivers and Stark, the absolute asshat that he is, pretends not to notice. “Why, I’m talking about none other than Lord Xavier’s child, of course. Take it easy on him. The child’s a hermit.” 

The barman appears with Erik’s drink and sets it in front of him, squinting infinitesimally at the King and the Lord before going off to serve others. Seemingly engrossed with the conversation just because it irritates him so, Erik ignores the alcohol for a while. He whispers as low as he could, without losing the effect of a scathing remark. “I am nothing but easy on him, Lord Stark. I am his King. He should answer to me like how a good subordinate would do and if I want him to speak to me, he will ans—ow!” 

Erik withdraws his hand from the puppy's mouth, who had apparently just nipped him playfully. The pup seems happy with itself as his big, twinkling blue eyes stare up at the panic-stricken Erik. He yelps, then wags his bushy black tail like an overcharged flyswatter. Lord Stark coos — the cursed womaniser cooed like a bloody woman — at the puppy and strokes its head. 

“He doesn’t like serious people very much, but maybe you'll teach him to learn to love you.” Stark grins as he unbuckles the baby carrier from him, then straps it to a still shell-shocked Erik. “After all, he's my gift to you. He’s yours now.” 

Stark's barman brings his drink, and the Lord snatches it as soon as it lands on the bar. He takes a sip of the amber-coloured liquid from the glass and sighs. “Erik, child. I do know you'll be a great king... But one piece of advice for you, young man, just one: People don't like it when you forcefully shove things down their throat, even when you’re young, and... dashing and royal. Just let them do that themselves. If the X doesn't want to talk, he has reasons... Probably.” 

With a wiggle of his eyebrows, Stark swans away with his glass of Liquid Fire to greet the Duchess of Trußelberg, leaving Erik alone with the puppy and with his thoughts. 

Sighing, the King turns back to the bar and adjusts the overly-energetic puppy on his lap. He holds the glass of Liquid Fire and almost downs it— 

Well, he would have downed it, had the Guardian and his lady-in-waiting left him very well alone. The X grabs the drink away from Erik, sets it on the bar, then silently facing the direction of his lady-in-waiting as if staring at her intensely. 

Lady Clarice nods twice, procuring something from the stash strapped on her leg, hidden under her petticoat. 

“Your Majesty, the X requests that you accompany him. He wants me to tell you that if he runs, you should follow. If he halts, you should hide,” says the lady-in-waiting, while she stabs the nearest man on the neck with an injection. No one else seems to notice. “And don’t drink anything for now.” 

Whistling to the nearest barman for attention, Lady Clarice takes Erik's untouched glass from the bar and hands it to the said barman. “Keep this. Do NOT touch it, if you still value your life. A Royal Guard will retrieve it from you later.” 

Before Erik’s mind could even catch up with what is happening, the X yanks him off his seat, towing him out of the foyer and into the front of the citadel. 

The Guardian breaks into a run towards the east wing of the Iron Citadel facing the ocean, where the walls are not as high as the other parts of the fortress. Erik follows him closely, and hides behind a huge column. Intricate swirls on his Helm of Justice glows blindingly bright as he halts in front of a silhouetted figure dressed as a barman. In fact, now that Erik could see the man's figure, he's sure it's the barman from earlier. 

“Took you long enough, X.” Erik observes the barman that was serving him earlier and his X's interaction. With the moonlight behind the figure, the barman's features weren’t clear enough for Erik to see. “I underestimated you.” 

The X takes a step forward, his fist gradually turning from flesh and bones to pure, blue diamond. Is he slowly being turned to a diamond by the barman? The latter cackles mischievously with the conversation that Erik did not hear, and it makes Erik want to strangle him with his bare hands. 

“Oh. Not so fast. You won’t get me today.” The barman forms a huge ball of energy and hurls it at the X, at the same time that the Guardian hurls spikes of blue diamonds back at him. 

Erik decides then and there that it’s enough— he won't just stand there and let his X take blows for him. Leaving his hiding place, he reaches for the metal balls on his pocket and forms them into little spikes, sending them towards the direction of the barman who’s slowly backing away upon seeing him. He attacks the barman with those incredibly sharp needles poking his skin repeatedly, before Erik retaliates. Unfortunately, the barman's marginally stronger than he thought, because the attacks are not enough to stop him from jumping off the cliff and escaping. 

Erik grits his teeth and kicks the ground repeatedly. 

Meanwhile, the puppy on Erik's carrier howls and jumps off, slumping face-first on the ground before picking himself back up, then running to the X's body. Erik runs after him, witnessing the puppy nuzzling his wet nose on the unconscious child's side and whining pathetically. 

“Budge, Hündchen.” Erik whispers to the puppy, nudging him to make way for him. He slides his arms under his Guardian’s body and scoops him up. Flowing iron and other metallic substances on his blood tells him what he needs to know, that his X is still alive, barely. “Come, we'll take him to the healers.” 

The pup wags his bushy black tail and closely follows Erik back to the Citadel. 

\--- 

**[2507-07-20, 22:02 | The Grand Area, The Iron Citadel, Genosha]**

Looking back, Erik thinks it’s probably a good idea that he took the obscure way to the healer’s bay. The House of M had been alerted of the situation, and the House of X had done a memory cleanup of the witnesses who had noticed Erik and the X hurrying outside earlier. Media blackout is better than having the people panic over something that are not within the House of M and the House of X's control. 

No one on the Grand seems to notice the commotion on the east wing earlier, and the celebration gets more outrageous as the night progresses. People dancing, lords and ladies conversing on the refreshments table, and cameramen packing their equipment. 

Feeling slightly disorientated, Erik walks around aimlessly until he locks eyes with a familiar face. She stares back at him, smiling as she makes her way to him. 

“It’s nice to see a familiar face, Your Majesty.” Magda curtsies flawlessly, and Erik sweeps a bow in return. “Would you like to ask me for a dance?” 

Laughing, Erik wastes no time and takes his childhood friend’s hand to lead her to the dance floor. The band begins a slow-paced serenade, and Erik pulls her close. “Why, you’re very straightforward, Lady Maximoff.” 

Magda laughs and lightly steps on Erik’s shoe, and Erik raises an eyebrow at her. “You know how I am, darling. I don’t want you to be with nobody else but me. Not even your little Guardian. I did see you two earlier, you know. I don’t like the way he touches you.” 

“And I won’t like it if you touch him either. He’s mine.” states Erik coolly as he twirls her twice. 

The lady huffs as they do sidesteps. “Ooh. I’m jealous.” 

Erik continues his tirade as if he didn’t hear her. “Besides, you can only win me over if you are willing to compete with several omegas from all over Genosha Septime. Are you up for it?” 

“You mean, the Selection?” asks Lady Maximoff, twirling back to Erik’s arms and swaying gently. “My nails are itching for a beautiful face to latch on to. When is this going to happen? How long should I wait, Your Majesty?” 

He gives her his most intimidating glare. “No cat fights on my Selection, woman.” 

Magda flashes Erik a charming grin. “Alright, alright! Oh, goodness gracious. You’re growing up too fast.” 

“If I remember correctly, you are just a few months younger than me.” 

The conversation droned on and on, until the last note of the serenade lingered in the air when the song ended. Erik takes the opportunity to excuse himself. With another bow, he turns on his heel and make his way back to the healer’s bay. 

\--- 

**[2507-07-20, 22:41 | Healer’s Bay, The Iron Citadel, Genosha]**

Lady Clarice is standing guard on the bay’s door, her eyes on the full moon shining on the night sky. She is wearing not her ball gown from earlier, but an assassin’s gear. On the belt binding her black coat is a metal buckle engraved with the sign of the House of X. 

“He’s resting well, Your Majesty.” says Clarice coolly as she glances sideways at Erik, then back at the moon. “I'd recommend not disturbing the X.” 

Of course, Erik being the biggest asshat sans Lord Stark, ignores the suggestion and strides inside the Healer’s Bay without a warning. 

Goosebumps. As soon as Erik steps in, he immediately feels goosebumps on his skin, his forehead wrinkling, nose flaring, eyes prickling, and his heart wildly thumping. All he could focus his eyes on is the stranger with tousled short dark hair, tanned skin, and lips kissing a pale hand. 

"Would you care to introduce yourself, or shall I have you escorted to the dungeons?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, dear X, what situation have you landed on your very first day? *facepalms* Clumsy-ass child.
> 
> Anyway, I do hope this end note finds you well, dear reader.  
> As of this moment, ~~a knife is still aimed at my throat, though the people of Genosha had decided to move it a little bit further... Because, you know, "IT WORKS BETTER IF THE KNIFE IS STRAPPED ON AN ARROW, AND OF COURSE, IF YOU DON'T WRITE THAT PROPERLY, AN EXCELLENT ARCHER I WILL FIND." No, that's not my words, but those are the words of Your Assness, King Erik.~~ I... I'm fine. Heh. Heheh. Eh. *sweats profusely*
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope to talk to you soon in the comments below, kind reader!  
> -Cx, Official Scribe of the Royal Family of Genosha


	4. Lost Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Xavier is a thief. Feelings are an absolute mess to talk about. Ruthie is a darling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey there! HI. OH MY GOD PLEASE PUT THE ARROWS AWAY.  
>  I've got it. *waves lots of scrolls* I've got the things I've written so far. Please don't shoot me omg I have kids*
> 
> I have several mouths ~~snout, and beaks~~ to feed.  
>  \-------------------------------------------------  
> * **Kids** in this sentence pertains to six dogs, two adult cats, two kittens, and three pet birds. No actual kids were harmed, or transmuted into dogs, in the writing of this history record.

IV. 

_I’ve lost control, I don’t want it back._

(Nicotine) 

\--- 

_The gleaming sunlight streaming from the nearest window illuminates the room, its radiance almost blinding Erik. Lord Xavier is standing beside him in all his pale glory, his midnight blue tunic making his skin seem porcelain-like. His brilliant blue eyes are captivated by a particular thing: a picture on an enchanting, golden sterling frame perched high atop Erik’s bookshelf._

_“I’ll be taking this...” says Lord Xavier, reaching for the golden frame with his long fingers. The moving image depicts his son sending chunky shards of blue diamond towards someone. The nobleman turns to Erik, flashing his ‘puppy eyes’ at him. “You won't mind if I take this, yes?”_

_Erik narrows his gunmetal green eyes at the pale nobleman. Something seems off. What’s so special about the image that the Lord wants it so badly? Nevertheless, Erik isn’t the one to give easily, thanks to being honed by his refusal of his little sister’s puppy eyes repeatedly. Instead of downright refusal, he tries to bait him into saying what he wants. “Probably.”_

_“Can I have it, then?” The amethyst-eyed man tilts his head sideways, the long, loose strands of his honey-coloured braided hair cascading on his shoulder. His knuckles are white from clutching the framed picture as if his life depended on it._

_Desperation, Erik notes. Interesting._

_“It depends. Why should you have it?” demands Erik, his eyes involuntarily twitching as his patience slowly swirls down the drain. He steps forward, stretching one arm to reach for the frame. Lord Xavier steps back, and the king thought— that’s a red flag if he ever sees one._

_Lord Xavier puts his hands up in the air, his left hand still holding the golden sterling frame, gesturing around Erik’s bedroom. “You’ve quite the collection here, Your Majesty. You don’t need this one.”_

_Now that he notices it, the walls of the room are full of framed images, each and every one of them depicting images of his memories. Several pictures capture Erik’s attention: Ruthie, his sister, beaming at him and holding out her favourite toy to him that one time that she saw him upset. Mrs Kinross, the head cook of the Iron Citadel, ushering him to the kitchens to feed him his favourite stew just after seeing a young Erik come back from an intense combat training. Duchess Frost with her striking diamond form, teaching Erik how to manipulate his powers with strong emotions to protect himself. Lord Stark promising him that he would give him a blackhound when he becomes king. His father and mother proudly clapping when he and his X stood together for the very first time, side by side._

_And then, there's the framed picture that Lord Xavier's carefully holding. Erik closes his eyes, and he could feel the whip of cold air on his face. The sea breeze dampening his overheated skin. Racing heartbeat and weary feet. The serene moonlight illuminating the east grounds of the Iron Citadel, the gleaming swirls of the Helm of Justice, and the X's fist turning from flesh and bones to blue diamond._

_Sparkling shards of blue diamond being hurled at the iniquitous barman. The concentrated ball of energy hitting the X squarely in the chest. The one-sided conversation of the two._

_Diamonds._

_Erik opens his eyes. As soon as Erik tries to make the connection, the once-stable ground beneath his feet shakes with violence, with the strength of a force akin to an earthquake. Several frames dropped off their hooks, showering shards of broken glass everywhere._

_“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” says the nobleman amidst the chaos, his lithe form becoming more ethereal as he tucks the golden frame on the inside pocket of his coat, “but I’ll be keeping this safe.”_

_\---_

**[2507-07-21, 02:32 | The King’s Chambers]**

Erik jolts awake in the middle of the night, panting heavily and his sweat-damped shirt stuck to his body. He desperately clings to the last strands of his dream as he looks around his room in attempts to remember… something. Something very important. 

Deciding that it would be best to think clearly without the distractions of being sticky and damp in the middle of the night, he opts to climb off the bed and make his way to the shower. 

Dreams half-forgotten, Erik instead mulls over the data he gathered, and what transpired on the Healer’s Bay last night. Apparently, Lady Clarice Ferguson is an assassin-turned-mercenary currently serving the House of X, judging by the clothes she wore when guarding the Bay. The X is fine, if one doesn’t count the bruising on his chest from where the ball of energy hit him. Nevertheless, the child insisted that he’s fine… 

Or that’s what the infuriating ass of a young man (that he caught kissing his X’s hand, Erik thinks with unjustified anger) said last night as he _relayed_ the message to Erik verbally. 

Ah, yes. That’s another thing, Erik thinks as he lathers his hair with his shampoo. The young man in question is Lord Stark’s only son (declared legitimately, Erik thinks with a chuckle escaping his lips) who spends his time with women and science (much like his father), Anthony Stark. As much as Erik looks up to the man, he cannot contain the disgust he has for the spawn. The way he acted around Erik last night… 

\--- 

**[2507-07-20, 22:41 | Healer’s Bay, The Iron Citadel, Genosha]**

"Would you care to introduce yourself, or shall I have you escorted to the dungeons?" says Erik with a hint of authority in his voice. He can feel the hairs on his arms prickle as he saunters forward, his instinct of being an Alpha itching for a territorial fight with another. 

The young man with cropped jet-black hair and brown eyes lowers the X’s hand and gets off the seat situated beside the bed. He leans closer and whispers something to him, then smiles and says his goodbyes to the X. 

“He says he’s fine, if you do care more about him instead of your massive Alpha ego, that is.” The stranger scoffs at him. “But I guess you don’t really care.” 

Erik steps in front of the young man, blocking his way in the most intimidating manner possible. He casts him an unimpressed look, the one that his mother highly disapproves of. “I am Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, Head of the House of M, King and Protector of Genosha, Leader of the Mutantkind, and Peacekeeper of Genosha Septime. I demand you to reveal your identity, or I shall have you escorted to the dungeons.” 

“I am Anthony Edward Stark, son of Lord Howard Stark of Stark Industries, and a _friend_ of the X.” To Erik he says, with a sly smile on his impish, tanned face. Anthony doesn’t try to match Erik’s massive show of dominance, and yet Erik still is irrationally angry with him. “You may be the king, Your Majesty, but you can’t have everything.” 

With that, Anthony sidesteps Erik and makes his way out of the Healer’s Bay without another word. When the door hisses shut, Erik immediately runs to the seat beside his X’s bed and occupies it. 

Now what? 

The king shifts uneasily, unable to think of something to say to someone who clearly doesn’t want to talk to him. If the X seems too upset over something when he was helmed that he didn’t even attempt to talk to Erik, not even once, he certainly wouldn’t be pleased with Erik now. 

Firstly, him being confined on the Healer’s Bay was _definitely_ Erik’s fault for the reason that Erik followed the X’s command and let him take the blows, and when he stepped in, it was too late. He should be equally responsible with the X as the X is responsible for him. 

Secondly, he drove Stark away in the most appalling manner possible, who apparently was his _friend_. Now, if only he wasn’t his friend, Erik would be too happy to get back on Anthony Stark for talking and acting too arrogantly for Erik’s liking. No one talks to the King of Genosha like that. 

Erik sighs in a defeated way and shifts the chair closer to the bed. He thinks long and hard on what to say to his X, but after several minutes of awkward silence and fruitless organisation of his cluttered thoughts, he decides to just go for it. To hell with it. “Listen. I know you are mad at me. Or upset. I don’t know what I did to deserve the way you ignore me, and I’m being absolutely honest. I have no idea why you aren’t talking to me, while you’re choosing to telepathically communicate with others to appear like you simply don’t like talking out loud. Why do you hate me so? Is it because of my position?” 

The X shakes his head vehemently. Erik releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Finally, some sort of communication. He’s slowly peeling the X’s protective defence off… and he continues doing so. 

“I didn’t choose this life. Believe me, I have no desires of become the king that I am now, either. I don’t want to rule, but this is what I was born with, and I have to make do. You probably don’t like being an X, either. I understand you. It’s not our faults that you were forced to protect me. It isn’t our choice, it never was. It was our ancestors’ fault. Please say you understand,” says Erik with a hint of desperation, his hand fumbling on the sheets without even realising he's doing so. 

Small, warm hands take Erik's right hand, caressing it gently. The X nods a little, and with his soft hands he clasps the sword-calloused hand more firmly, yet still maintaining that initial gentleness. The touch seems comforting and Erik cannot help but relinquish his hold on the sheets to give one of the younger man’s smaller hands a reassuring squeeze. 

“Talk to me?” whispers Erik as softy as he can. It turned out to be huskier than he intended it to be. The X shakes his head and turns the king's hand over, his index finger tracing letters on his palm. 

_I can’t._ The X spells out. 

“Oh.” Hurt crosses over Erik's face for a second, before shifting back to his cold, stone-faced demeanour. Knowing that he won't get any further than this, he stands up and looks down at the X with disdain. “I shall be going, then. Rest well. Goodnight.” 

He could have heard sniffling and he might have wanted to go back and check if the X really is alright. He might have wanted to persuade him to talk, and to ask him to point where it hurts, and to apologise and enclose him in a comforting embrace… but he's made of sterner stuff than that. 

\--- 

**[2507-07-21, 05:55 | The King’s Chambers]**

It's almost morning, and Erik is still lying on the bed with his emerald eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling of his four-poster bed. Perhaps cold shower while trying to recollect his forgotten dream, and reflect over the things that had transpired last night was indeed a bad idea. 

Sighing, he turns for the umpteenth time and almost screamed in surprise upon seeing piercing blue eyes and long forked tongue lolling out of a long snout, and Ruthie who’s wearing faux dog ears and staring at Erik. 

The puppy yelps on Erik's face and begins on licking Erik enthusiastically. Ruthie giggles and jumps on Erik, hugging him tightly. “Morning, Erik! ‘S your first day as King! Get up now, please?” 

“But I'm tired...” Erik fakes a yawn and hugs Ruthie tightly. “I want a big energy hug from Baby Ruthie.” 

Ruthie whines and flails wildly on Erik’s arms. The puppy tugs on Erik's shirt, slobbering all over the sleeve. “You’re hugging me now! Get up please! Want to meet X.” 

“Oh, that.” Erik blinks and stops hugging his little sister. Unfazed by the sudden silence, the puppy continues to bite and lick Erik playfully. “Um. Well... I think you can... visit him on the Healer's Bay.” 

“Come, please. Introduce me.” His little sister pouts at him. “I want new friend, and I want to draw with X!” 

“And… Drawing is good. Fun, too.” She adds, nodding as if she tries to reassure Erik that it really is fun. It is his fault really, for teaching her to draw. Ruthie is a very talented child, and Erik sees potential in her. Thinking back, he realises it’s not a fault, but a good idea. 

_Do you want to know what a bad idea is?_ Erik thinks to himself. _Meeting the X. Not that you can’t do anything about it, but hey, fuck it. I could probably kill a whole fucking town for my little sister. So Ruthie wants to go to the X? Ruthie’s will be done._

Erik sighs. If Ruthie wants to go, then he can't let her down over some stupid lack of understanding between himself and the X. Besides, the sun is on the horizon, and trying to get some sleep now would be a terrible idea and a terrible first impression as the new king. “Very well. Just let me put some clean clothes on.” 

_This is a really bad idea._ Erik groans. _Walking-on-a-shoddy-rope-bridge kind of idea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~woof. woof. wweihrdnfgdfghw;jklfbnfg~~ STOPSTEPPINGONMYKEYBOARDPLEASE  
> Goddamn it, puppy. Bad puppy! Go back to your King and tell him what you've done! *le frowny*
> 
> Oh! You're back! HIIII! You've read it? Oh, thanks. I thought those pesky townspeople are going to aim arrows at me again. I swear, they are crazy. There's more to come, by the way! ~~I want to keep my life and my kids alive, ya know.~~
> 
> Apologies for delivering the chapter a little later than usual, the puppy was being an absolute devil of a hound and, needless to say, work was stalled for a bit. I'm filing an official complaint to His ~~Travesty~~ Majesty, Erik Lehnsherr, to get his puppy contained. I'm telling you, the puppy is in cahoots with a certain Annoying Dog.
> 
> Oh GOD THEY'RE COMING PLS HELP  
>   
> -Cx, Official Scribe of the Royal Family of Genosha


	5. Let's Get These Teen Hearts Beating Faster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruthie tries to settle things straight between the two idiots, with the help of the puppy. The X is adorably innocent and Erik is a mess. EVERYTHING IS A MESS.

V. 

_Let’s get these teen hearts beating faster, faster._

(Lying Is The Most Fun…) 

\--- 

_Stars are nowhere to be seen. The night sky is dark and cloudy, and the once pristine King’s chambers is in absolute shambles. A lithe, robed figure walks among the rubble, his long-fingered hands gesturing in the air. As if enchanted, the ruins slowly undid itself with every wave of the man’s hands. Shattered glass pieces pulled themselves back together, broken frames repairing themselves hanging themselves on the walls…_

_Lord Xavier stops right before the unconscious king’s form and smiles softly. He kneels right beside him and touched the king’s temple with his index and middle finger. He appears like a cross between a magnificent angel and a serene High Elf with his untied honey-coloured hair flowing down his back like a long train. He stares at Erik for a little more time and smiles a little, then gets up and makes his way to the bookshelf._

_He extracts an enchanting-looking, silver sterling picture frame studded with sapphires from the inside pocket of his Verdigris-coloured robe and tiptoes to place the frame on top of the elderberry bookshelf. The telepath casts a glance at the still-unconscious king._

_“I told you I would keep it safe... It’s not the same as before, but safe. It's better this way.”_

_Slowly, the nobleman fades away from Erik’s mind. The room is the same as before. Comfortable, warm, and full of framed moving images._

_The silver sterling frame is the most attractive of them. The moving image depicts the Supreme Guardian: His index finger and the middle finger of his left hand pressing against the Helm, just above where his temple is. Extending his right hand in the air, he slowly clenches his fingers and makes a throwing motion, sending the barman flying off the cliff by means of telekinesis._

\--- 

**[2507-07-21, 06:32 | Healer's Bay, The Iron Citadel]**

In the end, Erik finds himself stuck with the tedious chore of getting his little sister to the Healer's Bay. His ultimate goal is to accompany her without having an interaction with the Supreme Guardian at all. 

“We’re gonna draw and be best friends!” The child yells enthusiastically as she leaps on her way to the Healer’s Bay. With her is her BurstPad, a slim piece of tablet that has quite a lot of applications— of course, 21 st century children will know about this. It's a damn tablet. 

With a steely resolve the king walks with a gait of elegance. He stands right beside the door, deciding that he would just let Ruthie interact with the X. He'll just stand there and be quiet, thank you very much. If shit goes down and Ruthie weirds the X out, he's going to get the hell out of there, pronto. 

“Puppy says X saved Erik from bad man.” Ruthie says as soon as the doors of the Healer’s Bay hisses open. She deposits her BurstPad on the bedside table, shimmies the hems of her little gown up and clumsily climbs up the bed to hug the king's Guardian. 

Erik groans inaudibly. He should probably teach his sister to respect others’ personal space. “Is a good thing, keeping King safe. Thank you, X.” 

The X smiles down at Ruthie, wrapping his pale, skinny arms around her. The bruising on his chest looks like it hurts, but he didn’t seem to mind. **_It is my job, little lady. What's your name?_**

“Ruth Madeleine Lehnsherr, Princess of Genosha. Mutter always introduce me as Princess, but I want Ruthie.” The princess shrugs. “Your name?” 

**_I am the X, Protector of King Erik, Keeper of the Vantablack Helm of Justice, and the Supreme Guardian of Genosha Septime._**

“Don’t like it. Is long.” Ruthie casts a frown at the X and pouts. “X? You don't have name?” 

**_I do, but... It's secret. Father told me not to. No one is allowed to know. Anyway, you said that the puppy told you about me?_**

“Yea! Can hear animals. They woof. I can woof too.” Says Ruthie, her pudgy arms flailing about excitedly as she barks at the puppy. The latter barks back and wags his bushy black tail eagerly. 

She turns to the X proudly, a smug grin plastered on her face. Erik could almost see himself wearing that same smug smile. “See? I know something. Puppy says Erik fight X last night. X won't talk to Erik.” 

Well, that was unexpected— Erik's ears definitely picked up that one. That can’t happen, he thinks to himself. One, Ruthie's too young to develop a mutation of the ability to talk to animals... (Or is she?) Two, the puppy can be a right pain in the arse if his deviant spying continues. 

The silence is slowly but surely getting awkward by each second ticking past. Taking matters on his own hands, Erik speaks up, the presence of the X be damned. “Ruthie, dear. You didn't say anything to me about talking to animals.” 

“But they only start talking to me yesterday, and puppy says Erik got angry.” the four-year-old protests, her cheeks going pink. She then glances at the X. “Why did you make Erik angry?” 

**_Ruthie, I am unable to talk to him. I can’t talk. He stormed off as soon as I tried to explain._**

“But why? Erik, you left X before explain thing.” Ruthie looks at Erik with her wide bluish-green eyes, then back at the X. Erik is a very understanding person, and Ruthie is downright confused on who's not telling the truth. 

The look on Ruthie’s face... Well, Erik's definitely sure they’re talking about him. The fact that he can’t hear half the conversation is frustrating. “Don’t talk about me like I'm not here.” 

“But X tries to tell stuff and you leave! Mutter said it's bad if King doesn't listen.” Erik's sister huffs and clamours for the BurstPad, plopping it in front of the Supreme Guardian and giving the pen to him. She squeezes herself beside him on the bed and looks pointedly at the BurstPad on the X’s hands. “Write to Erik. Use me as eyes.” 

The X parts his lips as if gasping inaudibly, head turning at where he last heard Erik’s voice. He misses by a few feet. 

**_Are you sure?_ ** He asks the princess, holding her small hand gently with the hand that isn’t holding the pen. **_You are entrusting your mind to me. That alone is a big thing that should be taken seriously._**

“It’s alright. X is good. He saved Erik. Won’t hurt me.” Ruthie gives the X a toothy smile and hugs him. “Now, explain to Erik, please. Say anything X wants.” 

Erik feels chills run down his spine. The Supreme Guardian gently wraps Ruthie’s mind with the soft, watery tendrils of his thoughts, and accesses the part of her brain responsible for her sight. He turns back to where he feels that the BurstPad is, and begins to scribble as fast as he can. 

\--- 

_I have lived amongst wise men, with ancient knowledge broader than the ancient archives and the InterSpaceNet combined passed along to me as soon as I turned seven... which was yesterday. Funny how it all seems like it was a long time ago._

_All the telepaths from the House of X are at arms, gathering under the lineage of the great Professor X, the Father of Modern Mutants. We are pledged to protect the House of M using our abilities. The House of M are the descendants of the great Magneto, the Founder of the Brotherhood of Mutants, Leader of the Mutant Revolution against the Humans, and the ruler of all the Houses of the Old Genosha._

_I, the Supreme Guardian of Genosha Septime under the rule of King Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, have sworn to only to use my telepathic ability to further enhance my capability to determine good minds from evil. Blindfolded right after I was born, like the Supreme Guardians before me, I do not see faces, nor do I judge them from their physical appearance. Those ideas are foreign to me. I only recognise people with their thoughts, and the appearance of their minds as I so perceive with my telepathy. Therefore, judgment is fair as we only see minds and not physical appearances._

_To His Majesty, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, my sincerest apologies for not being able to talk to you with my mind, because of the Vantablack Helm of Justice. As much as it amplifies my telepathy in all aspects, I am afraid that a certain element blended into your crown and epaulettes disrupts and distorts the electromagnetic waves that the Helm receives from you. In other words, you are completely a blank space in my mind. Something mysterious, something that I cannot see, but feel. You’re there, but you’re empty. Unreadable._

_‘Why aren’t you using your mouth to talk to me then?’ you might ask. Well, I… It’s embarrassing. Let’s just say that I cannot talk to you. I really can’t. To quote what you had said to me last night, it is not my choice. While I cannot talk to you as of the moment, I believe Princess Ruthie had found a way to let me talk to you: by writing. Please find it in your heart to understand me._

_Sincerely yours,_

_X._

\--- 

**[2507-07-21, 06:57 | Healer's Bay, The Iron Citadel]**

The Supreme Guardian hands the BurstPad back to Ruthie after several minutes of frantic scribbling, and Erik swears he can somehow see his little sister’s face slowly warping into a frown. “Is not a good writing. Wiggles and dots. Not Deutschliche, can’t understand. Erik, welp.” 

Confused, Erik leaves his post near the door and walks over to the side of the bed where the frowning Ruthie is propped against the headboard. He gets the BurstPad from his little sister’s hands and raises a surprised eyebrow at the things scribbled on it. 

Old English, bearing the swift strokes of Earthen High Elvish words. Erik frowns and transfers the whole document on the translator software by Weyland Industries. There’s a few errors here and there, but Erik can directly translate some of the Old English words. He has the letter figured out in record time. 

Perhaps he had been too harsh with the Supreme Guardian yesterday. Storming off like that is very indecorous of him, as the X had tried to explain his side. His sea green eyes flick to the X, who is clenching the sheets with his pale hands. 

Nervousness. Desperation. 

Interesting. 

_\---_

_“Can I have it, then?”_

_Knuckles white from clutching the framed picture as if his life depended on it._

_Long… Honey-coloured hair. Bright amethyst eyes… Enchanting._

_Must… chase… memories… lost…_

\--- 

“Erik? You okay?” Ruthie pouts and scoots over to the foot of the bed. She points at the space where she was sitting a few seconds ago, just right beside the X. “Please sit. You don’t look well.” 

“I… Fine.” Erik blinks rapidly and frowns, confused at the voice that was echoing in his ears just a few moments ago. He looks down at the BurstPad, trying to remember the thing that he heard. The X shifts away to make some more space for Erik to sit down on the bed. He pats the space and turns to where he last heard Erik’s voice. Then again, he misses by a few inches. 

Everything else forgotten, an extremely undignified snort escapes Erik, and he begins to chuckle. He sits down beside the X and pats his shoulder fondly. “Very well. I guess we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.” 

To Ruthie, he turns and talks to her without a single sound escaping his lips. 

_Please leave us for a while?_ Erik mouths to Ruthie, his hands pressed together in a pleading manner. _Please, dear?_

Ruthie brings her fingers together, mimicking puppets. She smirks knowingly at her older brother and makes kissy faces while making her hand-puppets kiss. 

_Thank-you kiss?_ She mouths to her brother, grinning devilishly. 

_Just leave! Please. I just need to talk to my X._ Erik’s lip reads. He doesn’t look that impressed with Ruthie’s action anymore. The latter just shrugs, that knowing look still on her face, and jumps off the bed. She pets the puppy and he follows her out of the Healer’s Bay. 

The Supreme Guardian flashes a shy smile at his king as soon as the door hisses shut, and closes the distance between them, enclosing the King in his small arms. Erik feels a strangely electrifying jolt of sensation upon the skin-to-skin contact, and he can’t help but close his eyes and reciprocate the hug. He breathes deeply, in awe of the way how the X smells like apples and cinnamon, like freshly-baked apple pie. Then, it changes to lemon and custard. Ever-so-subtly, it transitions into the smell of honeysuckle on a mild day. The scent keeps on flitting to any possible pleasant scent that Erik could think of, the scents that make him think of home. 

Like a man intoxicated with the inviting scent, Erik twists his head a little towards the X, intending on scenting him a little more. He does so, just as when the Supreme Guardian leans in to place a kiss on his cheek, or as Princess Ruthie had so eloquently put it, a _thank-you kiss_. 

The only thing is, Erik feels those soft lips not on his cheeks, but against his own chapped ones. It’s as if time slowly grinds down to a halt, and everything around them doesn’t even add up to make sense anymore. It’s so wrong. The electrifying jolt feels right, but at the same time, it feels like it is very, very wrong… because it is. 

Oh, god. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~PLEASEDON'TKILLME~~
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Erik, you did a BAD. U dun fuckd up m8. No, seriously. GOD. WHY. I just... *turns to the King of Genosha* Why do I have to write this, again?  
> ...  
> ...  
> Oh, yes. My... uh. life depends on this? And my ~~pets~~ kids? Yep. His Majesty has a good point. I shall write the tales of how the king screwed up BIG TIME. Apparently, this is how I earn a living. That being said, I am pertaining to my literal living hours. Not money or anything. Just my life. And maybe some food, too. Oh god, why did it end up like this?
> 
> For the love of the old Professor, I need a drink.  
> -Cx, Official Scribe of the Royal Family of Genosha


	6. How Does A Heart Love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik learns something about the past, and apparently, he's a _dip_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh! Hey there! I've managed to put together a book cover with my primitive editing tools. [Here ya go](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B6Faw-m8zegPazRfM3B4Sm15UkU)!

VI. 

_How does a heart love, if no one has noticed its presence and where does it go?_

_Trembling hands play my heart like a trombone, the beat’s gone and lost in the show_

(Ever Since We Met...) 

\--- 

**[2507-07-21 09:33 | Dungeons]**

Dark and cold, humidity is invalid in the place under the Iron Citadel – the Dungeons. Endless torment was promised to anyone who would dare try to cross the House of M, and endless torment indeed is an understatement. 

The eerie silence on the dungeon is broken with a wet crackle of a whip on skin, followed by several more, and the barely-concealed grunt of pain from the shirtless, wounded man lying on the ground. 

“Tell me.” The voice of the Warden, as rough and as vicious as the rampaging waves of the Frostfall Sea cuts through the silence. “You just have to tell me who is your leader, and the pain will stop.” 

The man looks up from where he’s lying on his stomach, flashing bloodstained teeth with his wicked grin. He begins to laugh, quietly at first, then leading to a crescendo of hysterical, maniacal laughter. Incensed by the sudden outburst, the Warden whips the laughing man. His face belies the look of the Unforgiving. 

“Like... I'm going to tell... you something...” The wounded man half-coughs and half-laughs. “Fuck off, Creed.” 

Ready for another strike, the merciless Warden raises his whip. Just as he was about to land another blow, the solid steel bars of the dungeon gates creak open. The pale, long-haired, robed figure strides in along with the King and the König of Genosha. 

The Warden meets them halfway, bowing to the three of them in acknowledgment. He inconspicuously whispers to the König. “The traitor is not saying anything more than what he said earlier, Your Highness.” 

“And what did he say earlier, Warden?” Erik casts a glare at the man lying on the ground, then turns his steely eyes back to the Warden. 

“He slipped earlier, Your Majesty. He killed two of our guardsmen and maimed two maidservants. He had also admitted to taking the lives of Duke Summers.” Warden Creed follows the King’s eyes to give the wounded man a dirty glance. “He said something about intending to overthrow the House of M, establishing a new house, and the genocide of the House of X… and now? Not a single fucking word. What should we do with him?” 

Cold fingers clasp the König’s hand, asking for attention. Jakob’s sapphire blue eyes glimpse Brian’s hopeful, wide amethyst-coloured ones looking up at him, and he smiles a little. Erik looks at the two of them, wary of the unspoken exchange between them. 

_And seriously, what’s with the hand-holding?_ Erik thinks with absolute disgust that he tries to hide, with an unsurprising success. Touches… it makes his skin crawl. Probably because of what happened to him and the Supreme Guardian earlier, but that, Erik contemplates, is a completely different topic. 

He tries to recite the Oath of Loyalty to Genosha repeatedly on his mind, just to get that feeling of soft lips against his out of his system. It’s wrong. It’s very, very wrong. 

“I see.” Jakob finally breaks the silence as he responds to Brian’s nonverbal query, humming before turning his attention back to Erik. “It’s your first decision as King, son.” 

**_That man is a bad person. I looked into his mind, and he wants to overthrow the Kingdom. He can’t name their leader because he had never met them. He’s just a pawn who almost killed you last night._ ** Brian telepathically says to Erik. ** __**

A high-pitched cackling echoes on the stone walls of the dungeon, and the wounded traitor begins to wriggle his way towards Erik. “You… You will watch them die, novice King.” The coughing fit that follows next does not even stop him from laughing madly. 

He then looks at Lord Xavier with his bloodshot eyes, and says with a voice exponentially louder than before. “Especially your… baby-blue-eyes. Doesn’t he remind you of Duchess Sharon, Lord Xavier?” 

“Not another word.” Brian hisses through gritted teeth. Erik had never seen the calm nobleman before as vicious as he is now. The air feels a lot thicker and everyone could feel the anger, the hatred, and the urge to shut down a human brain. Nevertheless, the man keeps on giving his little speech. 

“What about Cassandra, dear Guardian? Do you remember her still? The things that you’ve done, and the things that you’ve stolen from the North…” He scoffs, giving Brian the dirtiest glare one can possibly manage. “And now, you want to kill me? That, the Farlahanuil will remember as well. They will never forget.” 

\--- 

_The first time he met the Farlahanuil Duchess Sharon Charlesette, she was with the compassionate Lady Eisenhardt. They were chatting animatedly about the ancient hard disk that she saw on one of her great-great-great grandfather’s capsule. He didn’t exactly fall in love immediately. It will take him years, and a heart so broken from being repeatedly and yet unknowingly trampled upon, to fall in love with her._

_He touched their minds, analysing if they could be a threat to his King… but all he had seen is a pair of minds so colourful, animate, and pure. Sharon’s mind felt like it has a colourful façade, but he can’t go past that. She was mysterious… but its mystery dulls compared to his King’s._

_He reeled his mind back._

_Granted, she was a thing of absolute beauty as seen by the eyes of everyone else, but… his mind and heart was set on someone else at that moment. Someone he can be with, but he can’t really have. Someone he had seen with the eyes of others as a tall, dashing, well-built young man with ash blond hair and that sharp-angled narrow nose._

_Someone who’s stuck forever with him, whose arm on his back and hand on his hip, yet seems so far away._

_“My dear, you seem troubled.” The pleasant Deutschlichen lilt of the King’s voice had awaken him from his reverie. He felt the grip of the King’s hand on his hip tighten infinitesimally. The Supreme Guardian stiffened as the air shifted, blowing wind on them and wafting the scent of the King to him._

_Definitely Alpha. Possessive. The grip and the stance of the king… he was definitely dousing him with his scent. Too stifling. Too close. If not for the King’s arm supporting his back, he would have already fallen on the ground in a pathetic heap of confused, emotional mess. Ironic, how the thing that makes his knees weak also supports him, preventing him from collapsing._

_“You can tell me anything, and I would listen,” whispered the King softly as he brought him closer, close enough for him to rest his chin against his Azure Helm of Justice. “You do know that, yes?”_

_The Supreme Guardian sighed and rested his head against the taller man’s chest. “I’m fine, love. Do not fret about me. I was just thinking of something…”_

_Wait. Wait, what did he just say?_

_“Love?” Jakob pulled away with a small, teasing smile on his face, an eyebrow raised at the helmed Guardian. He took the X’s hand and placed them on the sides of his face, wanting him to feel the expression on his face. “Did I hear that right? You do love me!”_

_“I…” The Supreme Guardian stuttered, his heart hammering in his chest. He could feel the more pronounced cheekbones on the king’s face. He’s smiling, or probably smirking. “Jakob, no! It’s… It’s forbidden. And I was just… kidding. You know I call everyone that. And I can’t love you, you’re unlovable.”_

_Curse his twisted tongue. That came out wrong, didn’t it? He was meant to say that he cannot love him because it’s **forbidden**. They could get banished for it, or worse, executed. _

_He meant to apologise, but… it was too late. The damage was dealt._

_The expression on Jakob’s face fell, and the most painful part of it was the X could feel every movement of it with his hands. Brian retracted his hand as if he was burnt, and took a step back from his king. The latter, meanwhile, went back to his neutral expression – ruthless and cold._

_“Very well.” Jakob said, his fists clenched behind the cloak covering his shoulders. “Pardon me for thinking so, Supreme Guardian. Excuse me. I have somewhere else to go.”_

_“But… Jakob! Wait! I’m sorry!” He ran after him, but he didn’t see the rock sticking out of the ground. He fell sideways into the bramble bushes, his long hair tangling on the branches, and thought that he didn’t imagine his life couldn’t be this miserable._

_“Oh my. Are you okay?” Small, calloused hands grabbed his own soft ones and tried to get him out of the bushes, but his hair resisted._

_“I… ow. That looks nasty.” The stranger lets go of his hand and yells, “Edie! Come on, run faster. I need your help!”_

_“Damn it, Charlie. Must you always run faster?” Edie gasped._

_“You will learn to run faster in the north. We’re dealing with shitty ice almost all year round.” Charlie answered, and the Supreme Guardian could almost hear the smug smile on her voice. “You should go with me sometime.”_

_Edie? Charlie? It must be Lady Edeline Eisenhardt and her friend, then._

_The Supreme Guardian laid there, looking pathetic and defeated, when he suddenly felt leaves and branches moving against his body. They were unwrapping themselves from his hair… What’s happening?_

_Glancing at Edie’s mind, he saw what was happening. She was manipulating the leaves and branches under him, trying to free him. He squirmed uncomfortably._

_“Be still!” Edie said to him when he struggled. “You’ll hurt them!”_

_“M’sorry!” The X mumbled and pouted._

_Within a few minutes, Charlie and Edie successfully pulled him out of the bramble bushes. Guaranteed, he didn’t come off it unscathed, but he’s fine._

_“Thank you.” He bowed to them, but the two ladies just put their arms on his back. Less warm than the touch of Jakob, but more sincere._

_The Supreme Guardian gaped at the two of them, confused. Why are they doing this? “W-what… What are you doing? Who are you?” Because seriously, he can’t see past the initial façade of the colour of the mind of Lady Eisenhardt’s friend._

_“Sharon Charlesette. Yep. That’s my name.” By tapping on Edie’s eyes, he could see Charlie grin at him widely. “And guess what, X. You’ve got new friends. We’re going to get back at Jakob for being an ass. Right, Edie?”_

_“Why, of course.” Edie replied, sounding determined. “Let’s get him.”_

_That day, Brian might have inadvertently pushed Jakob away, but he met two of the kindest people that he will ever know, until he’s well into being a retired X._

\--- 

“They don’t forget, but they must acknowledge the truth that it wasn’t my fault, nor the King’s.” Brian snaps at the wounded felon. “I loved her.” 

“Oh, fuck you. You let her die. You loved someone else, and you let her replace him. Alpha, Blond hair, blue eyes, that sharp nose? Don’t you think no one will ever notice?” He scoffs. “But I digress, Lord Xavier. What I meant to say is, you bring destruction to all. The Houses of X and M must fall!” 

“Shut. UP!” The Guardian yells, his voice echoing around them like thunder. The felon’s mouth moves, but he does not utter a word. Incensed, Brian turns to Erik. “The decision is up to you, Your Majesty.” 

Erik looks at the criminal with hatred. “I will not tolerate the murder committed by this man last night, and threats against the House of X and the House of M. Warden, call for the Executioner. We will meet you in the City Square at noon.” 

He strides off after that, leaving everyone else in the dungeons. Well, if this day isn’t quite surprising, then he doesn’t know what to do anymore. For one, he learned that Lord Xavier initially harboured feelings for his father. Just thinking about it makes his skin crawl, really. Second, he can’t still stop thinking about how his Supreme Guardian’s lips felt against his. Granted, it was accidental, and Erik should hate it, but… there’s still that niggling feeling that he cannot place. 

\--- 

**[2507-07-21, 10:07 | The King’s Chambers]**

“You just disappeared.” Ruthie emerges from the pile of throw pillows on the rug on Erik’s entertainment lounge, with a pout on her face. “You made X more upset.” 

“Oh, yes. He can go eat a di—um...” Erik shifts uncomfortably. “He can go eat a dipped… thing, I mean. Something with dips. Whatever. I’m not going back there. Where’s the dog, anyway?” 

Ruthie narrows her eyes at her brother and crosses her pudgy little arms, clearly unimpressed. “Puppy is not here, and you say sorry to X ‘cause you’re a big _dip_.” 

Erik blinks at Ruthie. Did she just… 

The sly smile on his little sister’s face makes him realise that yes, she just did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! You're back! Well,
> 
> Lord Xavier initially wants me do scrap this chapter in my process of writing the history of Genosha, but alas, he is powerless against the King. Yes, you do you, King Erik. Everyone has the right to know that Lord Xavier has ~~the hots for the ultimate DILF of this land. Hey, don't judge me. He's really handsome, you know. Don't knock it off until you've seen him shirtless. Whoa, boy. That Witcher guy Geralt has got nothing on him.~~ feelings. Y'know. Yeah. Feelings.
> 
> I still haven't gotten myself a drink since the last chapter was scribbled. Perhaps I'll raid Warden Creed's stash of alcohol later.
> 
> Again, thank you for being here with me, all of you. ~~Maybe being transported so far into the future just to write the History of a Kingdom that isn't even on Earth anymore isn't so bad...~~ Perhaps you would like to sit down, talk, and have a drink as well?  
>  -Cx, Official Scribe of the Royal Family of Genosha


	7. You Keep Me Alive At The Edge Of Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik gets a temporary training partner and a huge sword. No, not ***THAT*** sword, you pervs. THIS IS NOT A DIRTY EUPHEMISM FOR SOMETHING. *facepalms* ~~Although, that other sword is pretty huge too, if I'm to be honest.~~
> 
> The Supreme Guardian shares something with his King, and learns to enunciate his first word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put 'em swords down, people of Genosha, the lot of you! *huffs* I've got them scrolls here on my satchel, darn it. The owl got shot down before it could even deliver my scrolls, so I had to deliver it, on foot! ~~(21st Century translation: My router broke down last Saturday and I am in the verge of tears. I'm living off on wonky tethered mobile internet connnection. Tech help will come in tWO DAYS. TWO DAYS. THAT'S TOO LONG, MAN.)~~
> 
> I DON'T DESERVE THESE SWORDS. Halp.

VII. 

_You’re like a siren in the dark_

_You’re the beat playing in my heart_

_You keep me alive on the edge of tonight._

(The Edge of Tonight) 

\--- 

**[2507-07-21, 11:59 | Hammer Bay City Square]**

After laying down the accusations on the felon and giving him the chance to talk his way through it, Hammer Bay and its Council of the Elders watch him with inquisitive eyes. 

“Death to the Monarchs of Genosha!” The felon yells at the top of his lungs before the guillotine clamps its unforgiving jaws on his awaiting neck. The sharp clang of metal against metal earns collective gasps of disgust from everyone. 

The severed head lolls off the neck and rolls to the feet of the executioner. “Serves ‘im right.” 

\--- 

_Genoshan King Erik Lehnsherr and his adorable X was spotted for the first time in public works since their inauguration. The two were hand-in-hand on the High Streets as the gorgeous young King visits Genosha’s local traders to talk about the upcoming World Trade Convention._

_The X seems eager to talk to people, and our sources cite that the X is fond of talking telepathically._

_“Oh, little boy’s adorable!” An old lady states. “We don’t mind the mind-talking, honestly. He’s an adorable child. Reminds me of Lady Sharon.”_

[Right photo: The current X, son of Lord Brian Xavier and the deceased Lady Sharon Xavier charms everyone by talking telepathically and animatedly to some of the shopkeepers. Adorable!] 

_Meanwhile, the King engages trading talk with the merchants and the business owners in the area._

_“King seem capable of trade. He is good.” Mr Azazel Morningstar, a business tycoon owning several companies all over the planet, told the Genoshan Envoy after talking to the King._

[Left photo: King Erik talking to the local traders.] 

_The World Trade Convention will be held on the 31 st of September at the Merchant’s Square, Trader’s Lane, Genosha. Traders from Frikka, Eurasia, Frostfall, and Mericanadia are welcome to join. _

_[Looking Good Together: The King and His X on High Street, by Angel Salvadore for Genoshan Envoy]_

\--- 

_A man was captured by the Royal Guards after the King’s attempted murder right after his coronation. He was sentenced to death on the morning of the 21 st at the Hammer Bay City Square, but not before he yelled a sentence that would make everyone wonder. _

_‘Death to the Monarchs of Genosha!’ was his last words. Everyone seemed unsettled by the threat to the House of M and House of X but the Royal Sage, Logan Howlett, confirmed to the citizens that the whole country and the Iron Citadel is guarded, and there is nothing to be worried about._

_“S’nothing to worry ‘bout, bub.” The Sage told our interviewer. “Threats won’t bring Genosha down.”_

_We are still reaching the Ministry of Defence and Security for an official statement._

_[‘Threats Won’t Bring Genosha Down’ says Sage Logan by Jubilation Lee for Genosha Septime Times]_

\--- 

**[2507-09-25, 09:45 | Training Grounds, The Iron Citadel]**

Erik swipes up the latest article that he had opened, then locks his BurstPad. He sets it atop the metal case that he brought with him to the training grounds earlier and turns around to address his Mutter. 

“Please do tell me you’re kidding.” Erik crosses his arms. He equips his most disdainful stare that he could manage. “I’ll train with anyone but that prick.” 

Edie seems unfazed with her son’s stare. After all, she spent her whole life out-staring Jakob, the original master of disdainful stares. “You don’t really have a choice, Erik. Captain Rogers especially asked for Lord Stark to let his son be a substitute training partner for you." 

"Where did Captain Rogers go?" Erik frowns. He has to know, of course. Captain Steve Rogers is one of the kindest and most valuable asset on the Genoshan army, and his favourite training partner. 

"To patrol the borders with your Vater, of course." 

“Fine.” Erik gives his best imitation of a sigh. 

The Königin raises an eyebrow at her son. “You’re not normally this docile.” 

“Yeah, right.” Erik smirks at her as he opens the huge metal case and whips out the most ridiculous weapon out of the box. “I’m ready to make someone bleed.” 

On Erik’s hand is a Zweihänder, with its blade twice his height and as wide as his body. Its pommel is made from glinting black ironstar, and the blade made of unrefined black Adamantium. He swings it around effortlessly. 

“Dear Magneto, Erik! Put that away!” Edie gasps. 

“Never.” 

\--- 

**[2507-09-25, 09:57 | Training Grounds, The Iron Citadel]**

It turns out that bringing a Zweihänder to a fight with Anthony Stark is the most brilliant idea that Erik had ever thought of… most especially when his opponent decided to be an ass as well and bring a prototype land mech of Stark Industries. 

The King looks up at the mighty mech and pants. No, he refuses to manipulate the damn mech just because it's made of metal. It's like admitting defeat. He better beat this moron with his Zweihänder. 

He's just glad he wore his battlegear. No one could ever distinguish maroon from bruises from afar. 

“Am I meeting your training expectations?” Tony smirks as he fiddles with his mech's controls. A metal arm swings to maim Erik, but he darts out of its reach just in time. 

"Nope!" Erik flies gracefully around the mech, swinging his Zweihänder effortlessly. To the common eye, they could only see the tornado of the Zweihänder’s Adamantium and the king’s claret-coloured battlegear. 

“Should’ve brought a mech, Your Majesty.” Erik’s comm device crackles with the voice of Tony. The nerve of the little Stark! He huffs and aims his sword for the hinges on the mech’s leg. 

Tony’s control of the machine staggers as the hinges give, making the mech kneel and rendering its legs useless. Erik dives on to the mech, plunging his Zweihänder on the Plexiglass of the driver’s compartment, narrowly missing Stark. He’s upside-down with his hands on the pommel of his colossal sword, looking regal and overall impressive. Scathingly he remarks, “Should have brought a sword instead, Stark.” 

“You’re terrible at this!” Ruthie suddenly giggles as her hand swats the X's arm. Apparently, he had said something funny to her. The puppy, now named Sterne because of the strange star-like twinkling on his eyes, yelps at Ruthie and the X. 

Erik glares daggers at them, even as he balances himself straight on top of his Zweihänder with his hands. He hates that Ruthie's growing closer to the Supreme Guardian every single day, and the latter doesn’t even say anything out loud. He doesn't even talk to Erik, for fuck's sake! 

Stupid, Erik thought. This is downright stupid. He should not even feel anything about it. Ever since that thing that happened way back then, he had evaded the X’s presence if he could. He's young, but extremely intelligent. He knows how off-camera boundaries work, at least. They were good at keeping up appearances when there are eyes and cameras trained on them, but when everyone’s got their backs turned, they revert back to their awkward dance-around. 

They were like the moon and the old Earth, dancing around each other in a slow, torturous show of attraction. The balanced tug of heartstrings, the irresistible pull of emotions, and the inevitable collision. 

No… Colliding with the X would be a disaster. 

“Focus, you asshat.” Tony growls as he almost topples Erik over while trying to open the driver's compartment. Had Erik not relied on his powers of magnetism to keep him upright, he should be a pathetic, disconcerted mess on the cobblestones right now. He draws his two-hander sword off the Plexiglass and flips back on his steady feet, poised and Zweihänder at the ready. 

“I’m focused, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” The master of magnetism quips, finally melting his Zweihänder into three separate compact balls and making them float with his hands. Tony raises an eyebrow because he had to admit, Erik’s ability is something that he does not see every day. 

Which means that he is definitely not focused enough for swordfights anymore. Or, that's what Cap told him, anyway. He follows Erik's line of sight and spots the X talking telepathically to Ruthie. 

“Still thinking about him?” Tony snorts. “You know, you _could_ be a nice person and try to be friends with him like how the SpaceNet thinks you really are… or you could keep being an asshole.” 

If anyone should be a goddamn telepath, it should be him. Nevertheless, Erik won’t give him the satisfaction by saying so. He sneers. “Oh, what on Magneto’s name makes you think that I care?” 

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe you could do with less salt if you appear like you actually care." 

"That's the problem right there, isn't it? You care too much." Erik spits out, barely containing his irrational, seething rage. "Well, have I got news for you— I. Don't. Care." 

“Wait! Come back!" Ruthie suddenly yells from the other side of the training grounds, chasing the X as he runs off. Erik frowns. 

Tony shakes his head. He's smiling, that pompous prick. “So, being an asshole it is. What, did you think that he wouldn’t hear that somehow?” 

Erik whips his hand forwards, causing the balls to hit Tony in the gut. The young man doubled over, but Erik feels incredibly satisfied with himself. “Shut up.” 

Knowing that there's no time to waste, Erik abruptly ends the training session just a little after half an earth-hour. The balls of Adamantium quickly reforms back to a one-piece blade, and reattaches itself to the pommel. The King packs his weapon in the metal case, picks his BurstPad up, and walks away. 

\--- 

Just before he reaches the foyer, his comm device beeps on his ear thrice, before automatically answering—a priority access call, then. 

“J.A.R.V.I.S version 9.5, requesting display access to BurstPad Alpha M-001. Priority Access Security Level 4, alert issued by Ministry of Defence and Security and Project S.I.R.I.S.” The self-assured voice of the Stark’s AI crackles on Erik’s comm device. 

PriAcSe, or commonly known as Priority Access Security Division of the Ministry of Defence and Security is the branch responsible for keeping track of the personal information and the location of the members of the House of M and the House of X, especially the members of the Royal Family of Genosha and the family of the Supreme Guardian. 

Setting off a PriAcSe Alert and Project S.I.R.I.S. requires for someone to be in danger. 

The King immediately drops the metal case of his Zweihänder and fumbles for his BurstPad, unlocking it with his handprint. 

\--- 

_Incoming transmission from Ministry of Defence and Security: PriAcSe…_

_Validating handprint…_

_Accessing resource core…_

_Loading Project S.I.R.I.S with MasterPass…_

**_Welcome, King Erik Magnus Lehnsherr IX._**

********************************************************** 

**Project S.I.R.I.S. version 1.2a | Access MasterPass**

**Subject:** Xavier, [NAME REDACTED] [MIDDLE NAME REDACTED] 

**Alias:** The Supreme Guardian of King Erik Magnus Lehnsherr IX 

**Last known traceable location:** Lake Romaine [see map] 

**Time trace dropped off:** 11:22AM, Genosha Septime Standard Time 

********************************************************** 

\--- 

**[2507-09-25, 11:35 | Headquarters of the Royal Guards]**

Erik storms off to the headquarters of the Royal Guards. He’s about to enlist for anyone’s help when Lady Clarice Ferguson swings in from the nearest window. 

“He’s not here, Your Majesty. Better look somewhere else. Didn’t the Ministry contact you about this?” 

"What do you mean, 'he's not there'? Yes, I know he’s not here, because you didn’t do your job right." Erik snaps. "For fuck's sake. You had one job, Lady Ferguson. You have to look after the X.” 

"Just call me Blink, being ladylike doesn’t suit me, anyway. May I just correct you, Herr Lehnsherr? My duty is to kill anyone who would be a threat to the House of X. It isn't my duty to look after the X alone. After all," Blink whips out her BurstPhone and unlocks it, reading from the book that she has open. " _It is the X's duty to protect the King and his kingdom from harmful schemes and intentions, and it is the King's duty to keep the X from physical harm_ ." 

"You might as well be as useful to me the way a goddamn snow sledge is useful in a desert." The King seethes as he snatches two metal marbles from a plant pot. "Very well, I'll find him." 

Sean Cassidy marches in his office, staring at the King and Lady Ferguson in confusion. He clears his throat. “Can I be of your assistance, Your Majesty?” 

"Ah, yes. Perfect timing, Commander Cassidy. I need people to help me locate my X.” 

“Of course.” 

\--- 

**[2507-09-25, 11:35 | Lake Romaine, West Genosha]**

With several men of the Royal Guards and Erik, with his little black blackhound puppy tagging along, the search and rescue mission on Lake Romaine begins. 

It takes them a few minutes before they successfully hauled off the X from the lake. The latter was trying to swim down for some reason, but he can’t swim deep enough because of the Helm of Justice’s preservation mechanism preventing him from diving too deep. 

Erik tugs the struggling X off to the shore, to where the Commander is waiting for them. Commander Cassidy takes the X from Erik’s arms and looks down at the Supreme Guardian. 

“What is it, X?” The Commander frowns in concentration, before he gasps. “Good god, we need to retrieve it!” 

The King looks up at the commander in alarm. “What is it, Commander?” 

“The X says that someone threw his mother’s locket on the lake. That’s why he tries to swim deeper.” Cassidy says, and the X on his arms let out a pathetic sniffle. 

“Fuck it.” Erik grits his teeth and swims back down, extending his powers to the vicinity of the lake. 

\--- 

“You’re an idiot, do you know that?” Erik snaps at his X as soon as he gets back to shore. He can feel the flow of the cool lake water on his body, on his clothes, everywhere. 

Erik hears nothing from the smaller figure in front of him, who is drenched in lake water as well. Of course he wouldn’t hear from his Supreme Guardian. He doesn’t speak aloud at all. Telepathic speech is what the X always uses, because in that way, he can ignore Erik. 

Well, if that really is the reason why he prefers not to talk out loud, then Erik understands. Although he still does not know what the X holds against him, he understands, and he accepts the silent treatment. 

“You’re as important to this world as I am. What if you died back there?” 

No response. Erik can barely contain his impatience. 

“You can’t even see a damn thing, can you? Take Sterne with you. Always. You need someone to guide you. Do you understand me?” 

A little nod, and an audible sniff. Erik smiles a little, his impatience gone, and hugs him. 

“I know you hate me so, but do not endanger yourself by running off just because I said something.” The King sighs as he feels the X nod against his chest. 

He pulls away a little and hands something to the X – the very cause of their drenched situation. “This is important to you, isn’t it?” 

It’s a silver heart locket the size of the X’s palm, suspended on a silver rope chain. The locket is designed with swirls and encrusted with icy blue diamonds. The Supreme Guardian’s lips form an ‘O’ of surprise as he feels the locket on his hand, and opens it in front of Erik. 

_“Hello, darlings!”_ A hologram of a young woman with short, curly ash blonde hair waves at them. Even though the X cannot see the hologram, he smiles upon hearing the voice. _“My little babies, Cee and Cass. My beloved twins. I cannot wait to see the two of you, but when you see this, you’re probably both seven years old. Your Father thought of making this. Isn’t he adorable?”_

_“Yeah, right… Adorable. Heh. X, why don’t you join your adorable little wifey, huh?”_ A familiar suave voice from behind the camera says with a giggle. A hand pushes Brian on the view of the camera. Of course, Lord Xavier still has his Helm. He staggers a little before he joins his wife. The woman smiles brightly and hugs Brian. 

Erik looks down at his own X and frowns. So this must be Lady Sharon, his X’s deceased mother. She seems far along her pregnancy, and she seems immensely happy on the time of recording the message. 

_“Don’t push him around, Howard!”_ Lady Sharon pouts at the camera as she hugs her husband, who is marginally taller than her, by a good half a feet, at least. 

_“This display of affection is getting disgusting. I do pity my future godchildren. Just say a damn message! Don’t just stand there and be all lovey-dovey!”_ Howard yells from behind the camera. 

_“Well… Yeah. I’m excited to see my children.”_ Brian grins and his hands inevitably trail down to his pregnant wife’s stomach. _“And if you two are watching this… well, don’t forget that I love you. You are our worlds, and we’ll always be there for you, to watch you two grow, and…”_

_“…we’ll have picnics and I’m going to dress Cass up to be a good little Duchess like Mum.”_ Sharon smiles smugly. _“I’m sure that Frostfall would love her.”_

_“And Cee will have a magnificently long hair like his Father.”_ Brian huffs, but then he smiles down at Sharon fondly and kisses her hair. _“He will be loved by his King, and everyone in Genosha Septime.”_

_“Be careful of what you wish for, X.”_ Howard snorts. 

_“All I wish for is their happiness,”_ says Brian with a sigh as the camera focuses on him. _“Our little angels deserve all the good things in the world.”_

_“This is getting longer than we intended it to be! Any final words, Charlie?”_ Howard focuses the camera on Sharon with shaky hands. 

_“Cass, darling… Your Father and I decided that you should take over my title of being the Duchess of Trußelberg and Ambassador of Rectitude at Frostfall. It’s a beautiful place up north, dear. That’s where I grew up. There are a whole lot of telepaths there, as well.”_

_“Yes, that is true.”_ Brian murmurs, and the camera focuses on him momentarily before zooming out. 

_“Cee, little one… I hope you’re doing alright. You’re going to face a fate similar to your father’s. You are going to protect the most powerful man in Genosha Septime,”_ says Sharon to the camera. The arms around her tightens a little. 

She looks up at Brian, although the camera doesn’t capture his face. Sharon looks back at the camera and continues. _“You’ve probably heard of Crown Prince Erik Magnus Lehnsherr the Ninth by now. He’s a kind child, well—of course he would be. He’s the son of one of my best friends, Edie, and the King of Genosha Septime, Jakob Lehnsherr the Fifth. Be nice to him! You can’t talk telepathically to him so you have to take cues with the tone of his voice. That’s how your Father gauges Jakob’s—”_

_“Ah… yes, that is all, I’m afraid. Howard is already making rude gestures behind the camera.”_ Brian says gruffly as he cuts Sharon off. _“Goodbye, darlings! Happy birthday to the two of you!”_

_“Yes, happy birthday, little ones! Mummy and Father loves you!”_ Sharon smiles and waves at the camera again, before the hologram fades. 

The X closes the locket and smiles softly, hugging the locket close to his chest while sniffling a little. Erik can’t help but compare Lady Sharon’s smile to her son’s. There’s barely any difference at all. 

_That was beautiful. She loves you so much_ , Erik thinks to himself, his chest tightening. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and encloses the X in a hug yet again, holding him close. 

“E…rik.” 

The King pauses. He had never heard his name said so gently. Blinking confusedly, he looks down at the X, on his lips, waiting for another syllable to fall out of his mouth. 

“I... I’m… so…rry.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who the fuck brings mechs to swordfights? Assholes, that's who. ~~YES, I'm looking at you, Tony boy.~~
> 
> *glares at Erik* And no, you're not exactly on the moral compass of rightness here, Your Majesty. You brought a huge-ass sword on a swordfight. GODDAMN IT.
> 
>  ~~I am not getting paid enough for dealing with y'all crazies.~~ What? You said you're going to set one of my kitties up for adoption? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
> 
> *turns to reader and whispers* Citizen, help me!
> 
> -Cx, Official Scribe of the Royal Family of Genosha


	8. It Started Out As A Feeling...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **This week's episode:**
> 
>  
> 
> Erik has an existential crisis ~~(Sort of)~~. 
> 
> The pup brings home something ~~(Not the bacon, but something)~~.
> 
> The closeness is starting to get to Erik ~~(but then he might be a little too accepting about it)~~.

VIII. 

_Started out as a feeling, but the feeling it started to grow_

_I get stuck in the meaning, and the answer is beyond my control_

(Surrender) 

\--- 

**[2507-09-25, 11:48 | Lake Romaine, West Genosha]**

Erik stares down at the drenched young child on his arms. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like they’re kept apart by nine years. The grief of what Erik felt when he had seen the message of the happy couple made him feel much younger and more vulnerable. 

They talked happily about their twins, not knowing what would happen to their future… 

No, Erik thinks that there was never another one— there was never a Cass, the other twin who was supposed to inherit Lady Sharon’s ducal seat at Frostfall. There’s only one Xavier child born under the line of the Supreme Guardian, and the said child is currently safe, in Erik’s embrace. 

An old proverb says that the dead is always listened to. That is indeed true. Erik knows that the X is taking his mother’s command to heart: _You are going to protect the most powerful man in Genosha Septime._

Oh, for fuck’s sake. The House of M are known for manipulating metal. They are naturally physically stronger than the House of X and, in Erik’s defence, they don’t need physical protection. 

If anything, the two houses should be equals and should work together: The House of M protecting the House of X physically, while the House of X protects the House of M mentally. 

All of a sudden, the agreement of the House of M and the House of X doesn’t seem to make sense to Erik anymore. From the very start, way before an X is born, his fate is already decided: he is born to protect the King of the House of M, born to serve as a psychic eye and the harbinger of justice. 

From being blindfolded ever since he had appeared on this world until his own child saves him from his duty, to being isolated from everyone else other than telepaths before being turned into an X… Well, Erik thinks that being a Supreme Guardian is a fate just a degree more than being a lowly servant. 

It makes Erik feel like an absolute ass for being so damn insensitive and for pushing his X around. 

“You don’t need to be sorry.” Erik smiles a little and taps the tip of the guardian’s nose with his finger. It’s wet, but a little warmer than the rest of his body. Probably tears. “I’m just glad you’re talking to me now, and… I want to thank you for showing me such a beautiful thing." 

“Thank you… for saving my locket. It's proper to let you see the worth of what you had just saved.” Deutschliche is naturally a stubborn-sounding language with its hard-edged consonants, and Erik never would have thought that it would sound good when said with a soft Farlahanuil accent. “And… it’s hard to talk aloud. I’ve never done it before.” 

Erik opens his mouth to reply, but he stops as soon as he feels the sharp nip of little fangs on his left ankle. 

Caught off-guard, Erik jumps forward and loses his balance. With the swiftness of a trained warrior, Erik hugs his X and twists into a full circle in a way that their bodies switch places and that he would cushion the fall with his body. 

He lands on the ground with a thud, and he winces. 

Sterne, the puppy, yelps madly at his dirt-covered masters and licks Erik's face with his forked tongue. He wags his bushy black tail and flexes as if ready to pounce, and then breaks into a sprint. 

\--- 

Sterne bolts away after trying his best to lure his masters, Tall Toothy Man and Beehead Child (Seriously—he can’t remember their names, and there’s just too much information right now in his puppy mind. He’ll have to ask Woofie the Princess-friend later), to where the mew-thing is. He’s pretty upset that Tall Toothy Man didn’t follow him because he seems to be content with wrapping his two front short leg-things on the Beehead Child with the long head-fur. 

“Snobby poopy faces,” he barks to them, and sprints away. Fine, he didn’t need their help, anyway. He was just asking permission and, to him, silence means YES. 

He grins goofily at the mew-thing and licks it with his forked tongue. 

\--- 

Erik follows Sterne with his eyes until he disappears into the bushes, and chuckles. 

The X, however, isn’t in the mood for a good laugh. He gasps in embarrassment and tries to crawl off Erik, the visible part of his face beet-red. Too close yet again. Everything is silent, but the king could feel the crackle of the electrifying jolt of sensation he felt last time they were this close. 

Erik closes his eyes and sighs, holding the X firmly against his chest. The whiff of the familiar scents from last time he held the X this close hit Erik like a rampaging sabre-toothed Northern Bear— the tempting smell of apples and cinnamon changes into traces of lemon and custard, then gently changes to a faint, alluring scent of a honeysuckle. 

If this was an ordinary day, Erik would have complained about the dirt on his hair, the stones digging on his back, and the drying blackhound saliva on his face… but no, this isn’t really just an ordinary day, isn’t it? On the X’s side, Erik feels safe. He feels at home. 

The struggling stopped a few minutes ago, he reckons. His own guardian is lying on top of him, his Helmed head and his right hand resting on Erik’s chest. 

“Are you really okay?” The X whispers softly against his King’s drying tunic. His mouth is twisted into a frown, and Erik thinks of how much he hates seeing it on his X’s face. 

“Yes, I am. You worry too much, _Liebchen_.” Erik looks down at his X fondly, his right hand caressing the guardian’s partly-dried hair. “Do you want to go home?” 

The X nods, his pale fingers involuntarily scrunching up Erik’s tunic as he shivers. “Yes, please. I don’t want you to get sick.” 

\--- 

**[2507-09-25, 12:26 | Wiese von Romaine, West Genosha]**

With Commander Cassidy having rounded his men up, they marched back to the military automobile at the end of dirt trail at the edge of Wiese von Romaine. They patiently wait for the King and his X to emerge. 

“We ain’t gonna wait ‘til the second end of th’world for ‘em, aye?” Lieutenant Anna Marie, most commonly known as Rogue, raises an eyebrow at them as she ties her hair back. She leaves her white hair untied and parted in the middle, and Sean snorts. It looks like an old man’s moustache. 

“Hopefully not.” Another Lieutenant, Armando Muñoz, says. He elbows his Commander to stop the sniggering. As much as he finds the moustache hair hilarious, he has no death wish as of the moment. 

The sniggering thankfully ceases, and they wait… and wait… and wait. 

The first one to emerge from the meadow is the King’s blackhound puppy, who is carrying something small and noisy with his mouth. 

Lieutenant Muñoz squints at the thing. It looks like a rug, but it’s making noises. “Oh, god. That’s something alive, isn’t it?” 

Whatever it is, it is drenched in dog saliva. Sean gives an involuntary grimace. 

“Yeah. Should we take a look at it?” Sean whispers to Armando, eyeing the puppy warily. 

The lieutenant nods a little. “You should.” 

“Yeah, I really should— wait, _what?!_ ” 

Sean grunts in surprise as Armando pushes him forward. Seriously, he should learn to control his subordinates sometimes—but then he thought of Sergeant Barnes and… well, that wouldn’t be fun at all, would it? 

The commander tries to take a closer look, but the puppy growls. He doesn’t seem very keen on letting Sean close to whatever it is that he’s holding. “Whoa, whoa. Okay. No nosing around, I guess. Carry whatever you want. Jeez.” 

Rogue peers over the commander’s shoulders and grins. “What, dog scared ya off, Commander?” 

“Shut up.” He pouts at her. “Back to your station, Lieutenant.” 

“Yessir.” Rogue mock-salutes Sean and chews on her bubble-gum loudly. “Also, ‘tas a li’l ball o’ kitten Sterne’s got ‘ere.” 

Sean narrows his eyes at the puppy again to take another look, when he spots the King and his Guardian emerging from the taller patches of grass at the edge of Wiese von Romaine. 

The commander turns to the prototype Weyland Industries android AI that Muñoz brought along with them to serve as an Ensign. The bot is about six and a quarter feet tall, with neatly-combed blond hair, pale flawless skin, hooded hazel-green eyes, narrow mouth, and a smile to be scared of. (You do you, Weyland Industries, for creating beautiful things in your labs.) 

It unnerves Sean that the bot looks so much like someone he can't pinpoint. Someone scary. "Your name, Ensign?" 

"I am David, modelled after the old Weyland android David 8 and a genetic predecessor that I have yet to find, but for the sake of individuality, I would personally like to be called David Weyland." The bot promptly answers. "What would you like me to do, Commander?" 

Sean blinks. An android AI with a preference for names? Peculiar. 

"Ensign Weyland, then. Please hand the King and his X some spare hoodcapes, they're at the back of the automobile." He points at the general direction of the automobile with his thumb. 

"Yes, Commander." David nods and does as he is told, but with surprising swiftness and grace. He retrieves the hoodcapes from the automobile and joins Sean in meeting the King and his X halfway. 

Another exchange of salutations from the King and the Commander, and David smoothly takes the opportunity to step forward and hand the hoodcapes to the X and the King. 

Sean's eyes widen as he witnesses Erik blink rapidly in confusion upon laying his gunmetal green eyes on the Weyland Android. The Commander steps back to where the X is standing, with his head cocked on the right in similar confusion. 

Watching the King and the android staring at each other is like staring at two sides of a mirror. Erik’s eye twitches as he steps closer to David. 

"Greetings, Your Majesty. I am Ensign David Weyland from Weyland Industries East Genosha and—” David blinks back. “Is there something on my face, Sire?" 

"Your face," says Erik as he squints infinitesimally. "There is something completely wrong with your face." 

At the background, the X tugs at Sean’s sleeve and asks. **_What’s happening, Commander?_**

“Dunno, access my eyes or something. You have to see this for yourself, X.” The young Commander laughs nervously. “I would exhaust my vocabulary trying to explain this.” 

David tilts his head in absolute befuddlement and frowns a little. "My systems detect no anomaly on my facial area." 

"YOU'RE WEARING MY FACE!" Erik hisses quietly. "Why do you have my face? I have enough existential crisis as it is, and then here you are, blond guy with…” He gestures at the general direction of David, “with a stick up your ass, wearing **_my face_**. Oh my god." 

"Ah, yes. My apologies." David bows a little to Erik, and then turns to Sean. "It so appears that I have found my genetic predecessor, Commander Cassidy." 

"Your genetic pre— what? OH MY GOD.” Erik snarls and stomps angrily to his own hovermobile. X gasps in surprise and follows Erik. Sterne follows them as well, his mouth still carrying his saliva-drenched ball of fluff, then the door of the hovercar shuts behind them. 

\--- 

**[2507-09-25, 12:26 | Runmayne Falls Highway, Genosha]**

Erik fumes as he sets the hovercar to autopilot and the fans to cooling. He plops down next to the X, grabs his BurstPad, and immediately opens the PriAcSe Database. 

The Supreme Guardian inadvertently burrows closer to Erik, wrapping his dry hoodcape close and trying to steal body warmth from his King. Erik raises an eyebrow but he doesn’t mind it at all, and just focuses on his work. He has to find out something—in fact, there are a lot of things that he should know. 

**\---**

Priority Access Security (PriAcSe) 

_Validating handprint…_

_Accessing resource core…_

_Loading Project S.I.R.I.S with MasterPass…_

**_Welcome, King Erik Magnus Lehnsherr IX._**

********************************************************** 

| **Search Query:** Xavier*, Cass* | 

_Searching PriAcSe: Project S.I.R.I.S Database for_ **[Xavier]** , **[Cass*]** _…_

_Subject found. Loading Project S.I.R.I.S…_

********************************************************** 

**Project S.I.R.I.S version 1.2a | Access MasterPass**

**Subject:** Xavier, Cassandra Nova 

**Relatives:** LordBrian Francis Xavier (Father), [NAME REDACTED] [MIDDLE NAME REDACTED] Xavier (Twin), Lady Sharon Xavier (Mother, deceased), Lady Emmersette, Duchess of Trußelberg (Aunt) 

**Birth:** 2500-07-20, 17:15 (Stillborn birth) 

********************************************************** 

\--- 

There isn’t anything much to go on with the data that Erik gathered from the Project S.I.R.I.S Database. He is right all along, that Cassandra Nova Xavier is dead—but something still doesn’t feel right at all. He sighs and locks the BurstPad before setting it on the dock in front of him. 

“He looks like you. A lot.” The X murmurs against Erik’s chest. The unsuspecting ruler blinks at the guardian. Since when—hold on, how did he curl up on his lap like a kitten without being noticed? 

Erik just sighs and supports the X’s back with his arm, to hold him in place. He seems comfortable and, oh, Erik just missed his question, didn’t he? “Hmm?” 

“Ensign David Weyland, I said. He looks like you.” 

“I’d rather not talk about that.” Erik huffs. “You know what I would like to talk about? The name of the person who threw your locket on Lake Romaine. That’s what I’d like to know.” 

“I… I cannot see the mind of the person who threw it.” The Supreme Guardian says with a voice so small and afraid. “So… I thought… you threw it because you hate me… and when you saved it… I’m not so sure anymore.” 

Erik glares at the X, pulling his arm away. What the X said is just absurd that he had to do a double-take. “What?! What are you insinuating?” 

“Fate…” The X’s lower lip trembles. “He said that people call him Fate. I… At first, I thought you were just playing tricks on me. He sounds like you.” 

If Erik thought earlier that it couldn’t be any more absurd than this, then he’s wrong. “You do know that it can’t possibly be me. I was with Anthony Stark before I got the Ministry’s alert.” 

“Indeed you are.” The Supreme Guardian nods solemnly. 

“And how did you get to Lake Romaine, exactly? It’s at least half an hour’s drive from the Iron Citadel to Wiese von Romaine on a hovercar, then about ten minutes of walking to Lake Romaine, if you know the way. You went missing just a little above thirty minutes since you left, and you have no hovercar or—” His speech is cut off by a small hand pressing against his mouth. Erik blinks in confusion and stops talking because damn it, he could feel the blush creeping up his face. 

The X smiles and removes his hand, then wraps his arms loosely around Erik’s neck as he huddles close. “There, it isn’t so noisy here anymore, is it?” 

“I’m serious.” Erik sighs and gently places his arms around his guardian. “I’m not going to drop this, so you might as well spill the beans.” 

“Hello, _Serious_. I’m Cee. I’m not going to spill any beans because there aren’t any here.” The X smiles charmingly at Erik and wriggles even closer, seeking warmth. The cooling fans turn on their direction, and the scent of the X hits Erik yet again. 

_Too close._ The King turns his head the other way and sighs. 

“Your name isn’t really Cee, is it?” Erik frowns, remembering the code of the X to never reveal names. “If it is, then there’s going to be a big problem because I’m not supposed to know.” 

The X pulls away just for the sake of shrugging, then gets back to hugging Erik. _Clingy little prat_ , Erik thinks fondly. “Nope. Absolutely not. That’s just a little sobriquet that my Father calls me, but you could call me that, if you wish to do so.” 

“Very well, _Cee_. Tell me how you got to Lake Romaine… and don’t side-track me with your babble, Liebchen.” 

The X sighs in defeat and relaxes on Erik’s arms. “I was teleported by Fate himself.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took two days too long for the scrolls to arrive-- I know, I know! I keep on blaming the owl.
> 
> Well, I decided to move back to Hammer Bay City. All this walking, just to deliver scrolls that crazy owls can't deliver twice in a row is serving as some punishment for all the leg days that I skipped. *le sigh*
> 
> Also, I met Ensign Weyland earlier as I was unpacking my stuff, and he says hi! ~~He's cute. He's feeding my kitties. SO CUTE. WELP.~~ He says he just lives next door, trying to be independent and all that shiz. So, y'know, ~~feel free to stalk him.~~ he says that you should not probably stalk because that _"is an invasion of privacy"_ and he will say yes if ever you do invite him for coffee, or tea, ~~or a date~~. whoops.
> 
> -Cx, Official Scribe of the Royal Family of Genosha
> 
>  
> 
> ~~(Side note: Please forgive any errors on this chapter, and do point it out to me immediately, for it is 3:53 in the morning and I am extremely sleepy. *yawns*)~~
> 
> ~~(Side side note: I WATCHED XMA THE OTHER DAY AND OH MY GOD I WAS A TEARY MESS AT THE FLASHBACKS. YES, FUCK YOU BRYAN SINGER, YOU FABULOUS ONION NINJA. BRUH. THAT WAS THE FIRST TIME I CRIED ON THE BLOODY CINEMA WHAT THE FUCK. *dabs eyes aggressively*~~


	9. May We Stay Lost On Our Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genosha Septime wasn't really the first home of the mutants, but Earth. So... how the hell did they get to a planet several millions of light-years away? (Also, someone forgot to bring protection -- no, you dirty-minded citizen! It's not _that_ kind of protection. A mind protection is what I'm talking about.)

IX. 

_I’ve never felt much smaller, since the fall_  
_Nobody seems to know my name_  
_So don’t leave me to sleep all alone_  
_May we stay lost on our way home?  
_

(C’mon) 

\--- 

**[2101-08-29, 09:18 | Carrion Cove, Genosha, Earth]**

Genosha is beautiful, he ponders with a sense of longing in his heavy heart. Siris looks around, taking in the gentle morning sunlight and the beautiful flowers on the Fortress gardens that his sister, Aoede, grew. Extending his eyes to the horizon overlooking the rest of Hammer Bay, he takes a fleeting glimpse of the abundant fields of beautiful tropical vegetation, the simplistic yet technologically-advanced dwellings, and among the beauty of it all stands the memorial for his parents, the founders of Genosha. 

It’s a shame that everything they had done for Genosha will completely go to waste just because of the selfishness of another extra-terrestrial race. 

Minutes ago, the Lydrians from the Flaksmerd Galaxy told them through the worldwide broadcast that they are coming for them. As of that unfortunate moment, Earth serves as a death ground for billions of humans, all of them eviscerated by a toxic gas bound to the oxygen in the atmosphere. 

The sole survivor of the threat are the evolved humans – the ones that they call _mutants_. Something that was embedded on their genes saved them from the gas for the meantime, but it will never save them from the oncoming air strike of the Lydrian fleets. 

Now it’s up to them, the Septime: Siris, Chance, Lyrik, Phobos, Chase, Franz, and Aoede, to save the living population of Genosha. 

The time is at a standstill once again. The beacons across space are up and running after an unexpected system crash subsequent to him trying to send a solid million people’s worth of compressed biological data. Siris connects his consciousness with the nearest space beacon once again, and throws half a million people’s worth of compressed data and consciousness at it. The data flowed through the beacons slowly but safely, protected by Siris’ ability to transport and travel by means of electromagnetic waves. 

About two and a half million people are already transported through the beacons and electromagnetic waves, thanks to the combined efforts of the seven of them and the mutants that offered to help channel their energy. 

After about three million people are transported, the beacons’ connection crashes yet again. Siris waits for Phobos to re-establish the connection with him from the other end when he sees a tall, lean young man running towards him. 

His long light-brown hair billows gracefully behind him, strands turning golden as the light strikes upon them. He is wearing the standard black Genoshan Air Force uniform with purple accents highlighting his sleeves. The emblem of the Genoshan Air Force rests on his left chest, while pinned on his right chest is one of the seven silver crests of the First Family of Old-Earth Genosha, and a badge that bears the name, _‘Lehnsherr, C.M’_. 

_To the people of Genosha, he is more known as Fate, the Timekeeper._

_To the humans living outside Genosha who survived the World War IV, he is the deadly strategist, General Magnus, the firstborn of the founders of the country of Genosha._

_To the Genoshan Air Force, he is General Lehnsherr._

_To Siris and to their siblings, however, he is Chance._

Siris notes with a hint of envy that his older brother exhibits the strong gait and mannerisms of their Vater, and bears the same striking face: deep-set eyes, broad nose, thin lips, and sharp, chiselled jawline. 

The otherworldly blue eyes, though… They were definitely _not_ from their Vater. 

“Spectrum, brother mine.” Chance asks Siris with a voice that is discernibly tense, yet gentle and comforting at the same time. “Any news from Phobos?” 

“Yes, he informed me that dear Aoede had finished terraforming a habitable planet on Vallenraise System. He had also _borrowed_ my ability, and we’ve already transported roughly around three million.” Siris replies promptly as he brings his index and middle finger together, pressing it against his temple. He taps on Phobos’ mind billions of light-years away, his consciousness seamlessly easing through the beacons that amplified his telepathic and electromagnetic communication across space, all while distorting the equipment of the Lydrians. “I’ve also scrambled those bastards’ navigational equipment for the meantime and connected every broadcasting beacon across space to reach Phobos again, but we don’t have much time to do this.” 

“Good,” Chance looks at his green-eyed brother with his weary blue eyes and places his hands on the other’s shoulder. “I cannot really hold the time off for much longer. How many people left? Can you transport the remaining thirteen million people’s worth of data three billion light-years away?” 

The sense of dread fills the younger one’s heart. How should he tell Chance the heart-rending fact that the population of Genosha itself was almost extinct, and that only a fraction of it survived? 

Siris fidgets uncomfortably, biting his lower lip. There isn’t any way to break it to his twin gently. “I… Chance, listen...” 

“Is there a problem?” The older brother cut off any more words from him, swift and unforgiving. Trust Chance to cut to the chase, and for Siris to give in. 

The latter shifts awkwardly from foot to foot, suddenly finding that fiddling the hem of his sleeves seems far more interesting than he usually would. “Well…” 

“Huh. So, that big of a problem, eh?” Chance wistfully laughs, pacing around the balcony of the Genoshan Castle as he tries to dispel the dread looming over them. “We—Oh my god, Siris. I’ve got so much on my hands—hell, we’ve got so _much_ on our hands.” 

“Y-yes, I’m afraid we don’t have that much of a problem any longer.” Siris steps forward, hands darting to grab his twin to stop him from pacing. He forces Chance to look at him. God knows he needs to be shaken back to reality. “Hey, hey—look at me. Do you remember when Dad persuaded Vater to open the cities for humans, as well?” 

“Yes.” Any optimism on Chance’s eyes fades almost immediately as the truth dawned upon him. He loves Genosha dearly, and that includes everyone living in it, even the humans… and now, who knows how many of them survived? “Oh, god. How many people are left for transport, Siris? Tell me.” 

“Two million,” replies Siris, his voice breaking at the last word. “Only about five million survived, including us.” 

\--- 

**[2507-09-25, 12:48 | Runmayne Falls Highway, Genosha]**

It’s a good day. The sun shines directly above them. It’s sunny but cool, and windy but—not as of the moment. The leaves around them are frozen in place. Nothing’s moving around them because Fate, the Master of Time, had put a stopper on the flow of time. 

_Annoyance. Irritation. Subtle anger._

Fate is a tall, blue-eyed man with a lovely set of sharp-looking teeth, has a terribly mischievous attitude, and a fashion sense to match. (Seriously, who wears turtleneck and leather jackets nowadays?) Fate snorts as he observes his brother’s usually happy ~~(nerdy)~~ face flit between annoyance, irritation, and subtle anger. He promised Spectrum not to say his name to Charles, didn’t he? 

Well, technically, he said his name to him, yes. But he said the name as the people of Genosha Septime knows it. 

Fate, the irritated prick that he is, wishes that Spectrum would just use the radiation on the rays of sunshine like he always does and teleport the fuck out of there before he uses the aforementioned radiation on eliminating him. 

He doubts Spectrum ~~(can)~~ will kill him, but the murderous look on the younger man’s face begs to differ. 

Spectrum is a short, green-eyed man with a boyish face, has a _jolly good chap_ attitude, and hair that curls perfectly against his forehead to match. Spectrum gives his older brother, Fate, a dirty look through his huge tortoiseshell glasses. 

Fate looks like he’s half-afraid that his brother would push him off the top of the King of Genosha’s hovermobile, and half-not caring if he did that at all. 

“Must you announce your presence to him, Chance?” mutters Spectrum with a hint of exasperation. He impatiently stomps around like a child deprived of its favourite candy. In his defence, Fate always says he looks like a child, anyway. 

“It wasn’t like I told him my whole name, Siris. Don’t be an ass,” grumbles Fate towards his twin brother Spectrum, as he swings his legs at the edge of the now-stationary hovermobile. 

“Oh, yes, right. _Right._ What about the whole _‘Oh, I won’t let them know we’re intervening’_ nonsense?” Spectrum scoffs at him, rolling his gunmetal green eyes as he crossed his pale arms. “They are Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr, same names and same souls, apparently— but they are not the people that they were before.” 

Now, the irritation is starting to bleed to Fate, too. He flicks a leaf currently suspended in the air, watching the leaf fall to the ground with his blue eyes. 

He wants to shout at Spectrum, but he doesn’t have it in his heart to do so. Not when he himself had dragged all his siblings into different times in desperate attempts of trying to find a solution to their own problems. “How many times have we fucked up, Siris? Tell me. I don’t know if we’re going to have another shot at this.” 

“They are _gone_. They left us, and we’re not going to bring them back just because we were playing matchmaker with their reincarnations.” The younger man’s voice breaks at the last word, and it was all he could say before he turns away from Fate. “This is getting stupid. You’ve brought us through lots of different centuries, with tons of different people that are _them_. We fail every bloody time we try to save them, didn’t we? They all fucking died, didn’t they? What makes you think this time will be different?” 

“That’s why I’m trying a different approach to the whole thing, you silly cronut.” Fate sighs and hops up to his feet, stretching his numbing legs. “Maybe they’ll remember us. Maybe we won’t feel so lost anymore.” 

The determination in his brother’s piercing blue eyes causes Spectrum to believe that yes, despite having fucked up so many times, maybe Fate knows what he’s doing this time, after all. 

“Your unrelenting Xavier optimism is showing up.” He raises an eyebrow at Fate. It doesn’t throw the older brother off at all. 

“And your Lehnsherr pessimism is contaminating me.” Fate offers his hand down to his younger twin, the corner of his lips twitching into a small, wistful smile. 

Spectrum looks hesitantly at the proffered hand, then stares up at his brother under those woefully long eyelashes. “And if this do end up in another tragedy, what’s your backup plan?” 

“If it fails, then we stop this nonsense. All I ask is just one more chance.” Fate waves his hand insistently to his brother. “One more chance, Siris. We will do this right.” 

“Very well, if it means that we’d all get to settle down on one timeline, then I’d accept it. I do believe that Chase and Franz are starting to get dizzy from all the travels.” Spectrum flashes an equally hesitant smile to his brother, accepting the extended hand and helping himself up to his feet. 

Fate knows Spectrum too well that he knows he is just using their younger siblings’ sentiment as cover for his own despair, but he decided not to voice his thoughts. 

Spectrum pats the dust off his trousers, then eyes his brother with a steady gaze. “Now can you _please_ resume the time? I feel like I’m getting older the more I talk some sense to you.” 

“Only if you teleport us back to the base, brother mine,” Fate says with a smirk on his face. 

Leaves resume their gentle flutter on the cool autumn air. The tall grasses on the nearby meadows are bowing down to the wind like how a citizen bows down to a king. From up above come the radiant rays of the sun, shining brightly at the vast land, as far as one’s eyes can see. 

When anyone glances atop the King of Genosha's hovermobile, their mortal eyes can see no one. 

\--- 

**[2507-09-25, 13:17 | Rushstride Beach Highway, Southwest Genosha]**

Temperamental weather in Genosha proves its constant existence yet again, as the King's hovermobile halts in front of the water-submerged seaside highway of Rushstride Beach. The sunny midday gave way to the wretched rain that comes in the form of an unrelenting torrential downpour, and the wind’s screeching howl echoes around them. 

Pity that the hovermobile didn’t have enough fuel to make it hover higher than a metre (it does, though their range would probably be a problem—and they would most likely stop in the middle of buttfuck nowhere), and pity that Erik didn’t take the amphibious hovermobile instead. Relying on his still slightly unstable powers would be as useless as trying to control a stove without a knob, since they would most likely _a) have less force and sink all the way down to rock bottom_ or _b) have more force and fly off the planet’s surface and burn alive in the process_. 

They can probably survive the seas, but drowning the house pet isn’t an option, surely. 

“I don’t like this.” Erik mutters under his breath as he gazes out of the rain-stained window, his gunmetal green eyes staring at the rampaging waves outside. The hovermobile is only a few metres above sea level, and Magneto forbid if it comes even closer than that. 

The king reels his attention back in his hovermobile, and notices that he’s the only one awake. Cee sleeps soundly on his lap, cocooned in the warmth of the hoodcapes. Meanwhile, Sterne rests on his cot, his muzzle leaning on a small ball of orange fluff. 

“JARVIS?” Erik whispers to his earpiece as softly as he could, so as not to wake everyone up. “Can you identify that thing on Sterne’s cot?” 

“Most certainly.” The polite voice of the AI answers back on his earpiece. “It’s a Trußelbergian cat, native to the icy mountains of Trußelberg, Frostfall. They are known for being cuddly and little, very much like your X, Your Majesty.” 

Erik rolls his eyes at JARVIS. He shifts the telepath on his lap as his left arm starts to feel like there are a thousand needles prickling him at the same time. “Tell me, was that really necessary?” 

“Definitely not, Sir, but you look like you could use some entertainment in this otherwise bland environment.” The AI retorts smoothly. 

“What I want is a way out of this _otherwise bland environment_ , JARVIS, and not some mockery of—hey.” The X frowns as he stirs on Erik’s lap, cutting off the king’s probably scathing remark. A panicked hand shoots out of the hoodcape’s confines, with his pale fingers stretched out as if manipulating something. Erik watches with a mix of absolute horror and befuddlement as he witnesses the skin of the X’s hand slowly turn into solid blue diamond. 

Lips parted slightly, Erik can feel the wash of cold tendrils of the X’s telepathy wrapping his mind. He looks at his shoulders—oh. 

In his haste of leaving the Citadel earlier to find the X, he forgot to put his epaulettes on. The Helm is useless with blocking the X’s telepathy without Erik wearing his epaulettes, his badges, or his crown, and… everything begins to feel heavy all of a sudden. 

Fighting the will to close his eyes is a battle lost from the very beginning. 

\--- 

_The AI on the built-in PsychLinq of his helm was a great help with providing the virtual replication of the Iron Citadel. He didn’t bump on anything, nor did the PsychLinq miscalculate his steps. A genuine praise is due to the Stark Industries and Weyland Industries… but that could be arranged later._

_For now, he faces an inevitable battle. His first fight._

_He feels the whip of cold ocean breeze on his skin, and the salty lick of sea spray on his lips. Heartbeat racing, desperately trying to replenish the oxygen that he lost from running, and weary feet pulsing with overexertion. Now, he can sense the sticky sludge of the barman’s dirty mind against his telepathic barriers… and it makes him feel uncomfortable._

**You will not hurt my King, not on my watch.** _He projects telepathically, mental voice full of sharp edges and blue diamonds. Clear and indestructible._ **I now see your true intentions.** __

_“Took you long enough, X.” The barman sneers. Without using sounds as words, he says,_ “ **It’s so easy to slip past your guard. You’re worthless. He will die if you keep your shit act up.** ” __

**This ends now. If anyone has to die tonight, it’s going to be you.** _He takes a step forward, channelling his psychic energy and turning it to something else. Something that he has, that his Father said he cannot use, ever. He feels a strange yet satisfying prickling sensation that started from his fingertips, then unfurls to his whole arm._

_The barman cackles mischievously, as if he knows something that they don’t know. It’s quite alarming, to say the least, and feeling of his helm slowly (and inexplicably) melting to a thick, goopy substance doesn’t really help at all._

_Gathering all of his remaining strength, he takes another step forward and jumps, elegantly twirling mid-air and hurling spikes of… whatever substance it is that his arm had transformed into… towards the barman._

_“Energy surge critical. Incoming attack.” The garbled prompt on the PsychLinq says, before everything melts away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! Oh, um, hey! *laughs nervously* Just got out of the Genoshan dungeons. That's all I'm gonna say. (Oh, that, and King Erik is an ass. He very well knows I cannot write in jail, not in those godawful lights, so yeah-- freeing me is a damn good idea, indeed.)
> 
> As I had regained my freedom, the Supreme Guardian had also granted me a scholarship in order to continue my studies-- and I have to take several tests to prove that I am indeed not a water-brained, dysfunctional member of the society. Nevertheless, I would not put this book aside, as GETTING JAILED IN A ROYAL GODDAMN DUNGEON IS NOT A VERY PLEASANT EXPERIENCE.
> 
> Still, [tarnation] you, your Majesty. The readers will have none of your jailing crap anymore.  
> [But no, seriously. I am extremely sorry for the sluggish updates. Life happened. *sads* But fret not, there's more to come!]  
> -Cx, Official Scribe of the Royal Family of Genosha


	10. Breaking Down Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Charles saw Erik’s eyes widen and his blood-spattered face contort in sudden shock. He could have laughed, if he was not the one who would possibly get rejected._  
>  “We were married?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do believe this chapter is long overdue, and it is not the fault of the couriers of Genosha Septime any longer. The scrolls were late because the scribe has a terrible sense of time management.
> 
> Here you go, my beloved citizens of Genosha. Do not fret, for there is more to come. Enjoy!

X. 

_I'm gonna break down these walls I built around myself._

_I want to fall so in love with you and no one else._

(Walls) 

\--- 

**[2507-09-25, 17:22 | Ministry of Defence – Hammer Bay City]**

His Majesty, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr IX, King of Genosha, Suzerain of Crescentwick and Wyvernport, Lord of Summer Coast and Fairedge, and Sovereign of the Septime (Merciful Professor, that’s a mouthful.) is in for a very big surprise when he retrieved the external memory chip from the surveillance camera of the Supreme Guardian’s Vantablack Helm for the sole purpose of bringing it to the Ministry of Defence and knowing what really transpired on Lake Romaine earlier. 

If Fate is a man in his early twenties with a face bearing every single feature of the Lehnsherrs — except for the blue eyes — then they have gotten the right guy. 

“Again,” Erik says through gritted teeth, hitting the pause button with a little too much force and then viciously pointing at the screen with Fate’s face on it. The liquid of the panel ripples around his fingertip momentarily. “First, the Android from Weyland Industries, and now, him. I apologise if this comes as a bit narcissistic and rude, but why does everyone have to look like me?” 

Agent Janos _‘No, please call me Riptide’_ Quested just gives Erik a patient little smile. The King looks genuinely confused and angry at the same time. “A very common face you and General Magnus must have, Majesty. Or maybe they just like your face too much.” 

“This is plain stupid, is what this is.” The King huffs. “And… General Magnus?” 

“Yes, my people in South Genosha know Fate as ‘General Magnus’. He fought humans that made mutants as slaves in the old Earth times.” Riptide then points at the other one, the shorter young man with the glasses standing beside Fate. “That right there must be Spectrum, his twin. They say they don’t go anywhere without each other.” 

Erik remembers his mother and her carefully-handled old history books about the old Earth Genosha, the humans, and the Septime. The books were once owned by Lady Sharon. 

“Mother used to read her old history books to me. All I can remember is that Fate is a time traveller. Spectrum is a space teleporter.” Sighing, Erik plunks down on the chair beside Riptide, wincing at the toughness of the cushion and resisting the urge to comment about how bloody uncomfortable that is. 

“No, Majesty! Fate is not just a time-traveller, but he is the Master of Time.” Riptide waves his hands around as he further elaborates, looking like Erik had just struck a chord on a thing that he is definitely passionate about. “Then, there’s Spectrum— is not a space-teleporter, but he’s a space traveller. Big difference.” 

“In what way are those different?” Erik turns his head to the direction of Riptide, a shadow of a frown on his face. “What’s the difference?” 

“Spectrum travels, doesn’t appear out of nowhere. He uses electromagnetic waves to get anywhere he wants, and they say he’s everywhere. That’s why they called him the Omnipresent.” 

Erik raises an eyebrow at him. Agent Quested surely knows his history lessons, and surely it wouldn’t hurt to ask more questions, would it? “And what about Fate? What is he? What can he do?” 

“They say Fate controls and somehow stores time in any way he wishes. They call him the Timekeeper, the Master of Time.” The Ministry’s agent shifts on his seat and rakes his hand through his raven-coloured shoulder-length hair. “That’s what you get for being a child of two powerful mutants, I guess.” 

With the new information laid upon him, Erik thoughtfully looks at Spectrum’s image on the screen. He drums his fingers on the trackpad, adjusts the playback speed to a quarter, and zoomed in a little. Behind the glasses are eyes that shifts from green to grey, and then turns to a cool shade of blue. He has a hooked nose, skin so pale and lips so full and red that Erik swears he could have seen it somewhere. 

“What could he possibly want from my X?” Even more confused as ever, Erik leans back on his seat and crosses his long arms. “He’s of no use to them, as far as I know.” 

Riptide cups his chin in thought, tapping a finger against his tanned cheek. “I’m afraid I cannot answer that for now. I’m going to send Ferguson to investigate on the matter.” 

“Lady Ferguson is with you now? And here I was, thinking she was just a mercenary hired for my X.” 

“That she was, a mercenary and an assassin. Now she is an agent.” Janos turns back to the footage and copied it to the internal servers of the Ministry. “We are not going to get any more data from this video footage, Majesty. We need the audio recorder as well.” 

Erik nods, pushing himself off the uncomfortable chair. “I should be able to extract the sound file on the Helm’s audio recorder when I get back. Can you relay the sound over this footage?” 

“Sure I can, Your Majesty.” Riptide gets on his feet as well, smoothing the crinkles that formed on his military-grade coat. “Although… there’s one more thing bothering me about this, sir. I cannot recover anything before the time of the disappearance of the Supreme Guardian. Thirty minutes’ worth of footage? Gone. Magnetic particles messed up.” 

Well, isn’t that just interesting, Erik thinks. “I see. I’ll send you the file as soon as possible, then. I’ll be going back to the Citadel.” 

The Agent bows in acknowledgment. “Safe travels, Your Majesty.” 

\--- 

**[2507-09-25, 15:14 | The Guardian’s Chambers]**

Of all the simple things that Jean could wish for, one of them is the safety of the King’s X. Not all nobles are as kind, appreciative, and giving to the maidservants as the child. Even when he was raised at the House of Truth, where all telepaths descended from the Xaviers live to be as powerful and as grand as they could be, the X knows how to treat other people (even the ones of lower castes) with the same respect that he gives his telepathic brethren, regardless of their social status. 

She glances at the sleeping Guardian and smiles briefly at the sight. The King’s blackhound puppy is on a small stool, standing on its hind legs, with its front paws leaning on the bed. There’s also a small ball of orange fluff on its head which, upon closer inspection, is a little kitten purring softly in its deep slumber. 

Jean remembers what happened earlier. For a servant’s eyes, it’s not a typical thing to forget. 

\--- 

_This day proved very hard to forget indeed, especially with the strong emotions accompanying the blazing eyes of the young King, which are filled with suppressed fury. Yes, he does look furious and his mind is a hot wall of steel and iron and yet, the humble red-maned servant can’t help but notice the gentleness when he lowered the Supreme Guardian amongst the soft pillows. He kneels beside the bed (It’s a rare chance to see someone as noble as a One kneel beside something, Jean notes,) and brushed the stray hair off the X’s helm-covered face. The fury on his eyes die down and his expression becomes neutral as the Guardian nuzzles his hand in his sleep._

_As if Jean haven’t had enough surprises for a day, the King directs his attention to them, eyes as calm as the Southern Genoshan Seas as he stands up and asks, “Your names, numbers, and affiliations?”_

_“My name is Jean, Your Majesty. A six.” The number of servants and the less fortunate. A number of no importance to the nobles, and just a step higher above the untouchables. She was once one of them, but shit happens and Fate is a child born out of a bloody wedlock with all the dragon dung that it had put her on an early age._

_She dared not to voice her thoughts as she curtsied gracefully, and watched as Ororo followed suit. “And I am Ororo, a six. We were serving under the House of X before Lord Xavier placed us under your care.”_

_The King nodded in acknowledgment, putting his hands behind his back as he assessed the servants. “I see. How long have you been serving the Xaviers?”_

_“I was serving the Lady Sharon since I was ten, a year before the birth of the X.” Ororo replied after she had curtsied. “Jean came along when Lord Xavier found her on the streets, roundabout five years ago.”_

_“Yes, ‘tis true, Your Majesty.” Jean supplies helpfully, noticing the way the King’s mind seem to take interest in the Supreme Guardian. “We grew up on the Genoshan House of Truth, serving the House of X– well, your Supreme Guardian, specifically.”_

_“I see.” The young king hummed in thought, feet proving him restless as he walked around the room with his hands on his back. He stopped in front of the two maidservants, fixing his steel grey eyes at them. “Jean, Ororo, I am putting my trust in you two, and you have one task: Keep your eye on the X. Don’t let him wander off on his own… and most importantly, don’t let him know about… this.”_

_Ororo, the nerve of her, spoke. Jean blinks in confusion, yet her head is still bowed. The thrill on her voice was nothing that Jean had ever heard from her before. “Like spies, Your Majesty?”_

_“Oh, yes. Exactly like spies.” The King supplied in a conspiratorial voice. Further confusion envelopes Jean, and curiosity won over her—she looked up and saw him, arms crossed and smiling like a predator that had successfully cornered his prey. “In fact, I shall arrange for you to serve under the banner of the Genoshan monarchy. You will undergo combat training with Logan— “_

_“Logan, the Sage?” Jean squeaked in disbelief. She shifts uncomfortably at the mention of the burly Sage, heat spreading on her pale cheeks as she felt the amusement glowing from Ororo and the King’s minds. “I… Well, that’s…”_

_“Brilliant, isn’t it?” He chuckled – the King of Genosha chuckled at her embarrassment! The embarrassment increased from merely shifting uncomfortably to full-blown, toe-curling shame. A servant setting her eyes on a Sage. Scandalous! “However, you will still masquerade as servants. A good spy needs a cover.”_

_Ororo shrugged. “Fine by us, Your Majesty. It’s what we’ve always learned to do, anyway. Right, Jeanie?”_

_That sent Jean’s thoughts right back to Genosha Septime._

_Right. Maybe having trained in combat at six years old and being a child of a former Grand Master of a fallen house should go unmentioned. “Yes, right. Of course.”_

\--- 

**[2507-09-26, 02:43 | The Guardian’s Chambers]**

It was still in the middle of the cold Autumn night when Charles finally awakens. The first thing that registers on his sleep-addled mind is the way a cold, caged mind feels against his own mind. He could visualise the radiant thoughts swirling on the vast prison, its radiance shining through. 

**_Lost in thought?_** The Guardian inquires with his mind on whoever owns the mind prison, his eyelids still heavy from sleep. 

“I would appreciate it if you do not speak directly into my mind if not necessary.” 

The cool voice sends the X’s heart racing madly. The mind is his King’s mind, of course! He had already sensed it way back before he was declared as the X. Even in his sleep the Vantablack Helm stays on Charles as a mask, but the lack of the telepathic repelling force of the King’s decorative jewellery against his helm is staggeringly noticeable. “Hmm. Odd. Why did you…? I… I can sense you with my mind. Please put any of your repelling adornments on.” 

“No. We have to talk about things that no one but us should know about,” comes the gruff reply of the King. The Supreme Guardian has to stop breathing for a moment, for Erik was close—far too close for comfort that it reminded him of the night when that… thing… on the Healer’s Bay happened. 

Charles could feel the cold metal bars and the intense heat of the unidentified radiant thoughts of Erik’s mind against his, but he dared not to try and infiltrate it. “You do realise that by being my X, my Second-in-Command, you yourself are in danger. Someone’s after you. We know not of their intentions, but I know keeping you out of my mind when you could have used your telepathy in warning me of impending danger would be stupid. Dangerously stupid.” 

“But… we were managing just fine, Your Majesty. I am protecting you from… oh, say, three attacks since you had been crowned.” 

Erik sighs in frustration. He knew way before trying to discuss this with his Supreme Guardian that he would reason out first without asking why. The way the X pouts up at him irks him more than he should care to admit. “Yes, and should I say thank you for that? Fine. Thank you _for doing your job_. Now, I need to do my job as well – to protect _you_ and this kingdom. Now that I know someone is after you, then I need you to tell me when you’re in danger, so as your King, I am lifting your restrictions in communicating with my mind.” 

Confusion envelopes the Guardian as he scrambles upright. “Of course, but… how about the vows that I swore, about me keeping away from your mind?” 

“Fuck the vows. It’s of no use when we’re both dead.” 

“I swear I could have heard that somewhere.” Charles rubs his chin in thought. “A tale?” 

Erik grins mischievously. He knows what exactly his Supreme Guardian is talking about. “A tale, no—an absolute reality. Magneto said that when he had unexpectedly gotten a proposal from the Professor in the middle of a fight with the humans.” 

Ah, yes. Charles can remember the faint echoes of the memories stored in his mind, as if they were his own… 

\--- 

_The cool autumn breeze fanned the strong scent that Charles had grown to love ever since he had saved him from the raging waters several decades ago, way back when Erik still remembered him. Oh, that sandalwood and mint scent that sent his heart racing every time… It somehow made him a little weak on the knees._

_Well, that, or it’s the sea of blood and dead bodies in which Erik was currently treading on that’s making him weak on the knees._

_Gritting his teeth, he weaved over to where the distinctive sandalwood scent is coming from, dropping sea of humans that try to down Erik and the other mutants by means of his telepathic bursts. Taking five at a time is no trouble, but they were this close to being completely overpowered._

_“Erik, we’re probably going to die if this continues!” He yelled at the top of his lungs and with his mind, sending almost everyone staggering at the volume of the telepathic call. It bounced right off the helmet, though, but his voice reached Erik. “Let’s fall back to the gates!”_

_Or, that’s what Charles thought he said. The exact words that escaped his pomegranate-red lips were, “Erik, we’re probably going to die if this continues! So will you marry me? Again? Before we die?”_

_Charles saw Erik’s eyes widen and his blood-spattered face contort in sudden shock. He could have laughed, if he was not the one who would possibly get rejected._

_“We were married?!”_

_OH. Oh, right. Charles forgot about Erik’s lost memories._

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot is gradually thickening, and the King's nearing the end of his string with all the budget knock-off people that tries to look like him. Oh, Your Majesty, a common face does not necessarily mean that your mug ain't attractive. ~~*gags*~~
> 
> I have missed working with scrolls and pens, but what I miss the most is YOU. Yes, citizen, you charming person, you. You can have a chance to alter the lives of our star-crossed lovers in little ways. What would you want to happen next? Would it happen? ~~Would the Dreamkeeper grant your wishes of altering reality? Who is the Dreamkeeper, anyway? Hmmm...~~ Suggestions and feedback are very much welcome.
> 
> Have a good All Hallow's eve, Citizen! (There will be a festival at Hammer Bay City Square. To anyone who can cross time and space, you are welcome to join us!)  
> -Cx, Official Scribe of the Royal Family of Genosha


End file.
